Gravity
by lacksubstance
Summary: New York City has a population of approximately 18.9 million people; at least five million of them take the subway five days a week. Full summary inside
1. Chapter One

**Title:** Gravity

**Rating:** T (mostly)

**Summary:** New York City has a population of approximately 18.9 million people; at least five million of them take the subway five days a week. There will always be that one person out of those 18.9 million citizens; those five million riders that will be in your presence every day and you may never know it till one day. And that one day may be the day your life changes.

I was presented with a prompt from Arie_ (lookatthestar)_, so this is for her.

_Chapter One._

**x.**

It's a beautiful Saturday afternoon in the remarkably iconic Empire State; New York. The city is buzzing as per usual and for once I'm actually looking forward to a day away from the office. As my boots click on the pavement, I huddle myself into my thick coat to shield any blistering winds. Sure Ohio has prepared me for this, but it doesn't physically ever mean I'm truly _prepared_.

My breath is easily visible as I exhale. I have to rub my hands together to form some heat and place them on my face to prevent it from feeling like I've been hit with an iceberg. The slushie facials in high school _didn't_ prepare me for this.

I frantically push my way through the crowd, before jaywalking with the best of them to Central Park. I hoped to find a bench under one of the big trees as the leaves change and hit the floor in a pile under my feet. It's one thing I love about the Northeast coast; the change of seasons seemed to be something of a tourist attraction—certainly was for me as soon as I moved here.

I kick my feet in some already formed piles and giggle as they jump up around me, before plopping down in place. I hold my book in one hand and a nice hot cup of coffee in the other. The aroma of hazelnut fuels through me as I take a sip, finally sitting down on a bench.

Crossing my legs over, I begin to read on the page I left off. It's nothing out of the ordinary for me to read leisurely, but I certainly don't have enough time during the week to make it through a page let alone a full chapter.

I suppose I should've expected this when I decided to major in marketing at Yale. I don't even have time to visit home on the holidays and that's depressing to say the least. I know my mother misses me terribly as does my father. My home is pretty much uncharted territory. I desperately wanted to get away from the high grass fields full of cattle and horses. I always craved for something more—modern in a respect. My home was amazing to live in when I was younger, but things have changed. In a way, I'm glad I can't make it home so I can avoid the constant interrogation of why I'm not married, especially now that New York legalized marriage for gay and lesbians. Though my parents accept my way of life, I have to bite my tongue every time they ask. What can I say? I don't have time to date either. My career is demanding, especially now that I'm head of the advertising department of the company.

I flip through to the next page as I sip my coffee, which instantly sends a warm tingling sensation down my spine, causing a chill to arise. The confusing logic behind that is strangely fascinating. But that aside, success! I've made it through a page with no interruptions. I smile triumphantly at myself, when my phone begins to ring. I roll my eyes at the coincidence, before answering it, knowing it's Brittany.

"Hello Britt," I answer through the receiver and I place the receipt I'm using as a bookmark back in place. I don't like ruining the corners of books by bending them down to keep my place.

"What are you doing right now?" She asks and I look around at my surroundings, spotting a few joggers and just random passers. Some attending benches and even people sitting by the fountain and on the steps—I didn't realize how busy it was today.

"Um in Central Park, why?" I finally reply, taking another sip of my coffee.

"Well I'm coming over there right now because I miss you and we need to talk and hang out," Brittany says somewhat breathlessly. My guess is she just ran across the street, which street—I'm not sure of, but like me, Brittany is an Ohio native and only moved to New York after attending a dancing academy on the West coast. Let's just say, she's been dancing professionally for Broadway since. She's that amazing and I can vouch to that.

"Okay, but Britt, I was planning to just relax today and you know—read," I shrug to my phone. It wasn't that I didn't want to see my best friend because she is right. It's been awhile since we've actually spent time together now with her show in full swing and rehearsals never ending. But I'm also on a nonstop turntable of events and just once, I'd like to relax with a nice cup of coffee and a good book, but I wouldn't know that since I seem to be interrupted anytime I try to engorge myself in it.

She sighs on the other line. "Stop being a grandma, I'm almost there and we are going to have lunch. No objections," she tells me and I try to restrain myself from rolling my eyes again, but I can't help myself. There really is no arguing with her, so I just give in to humor her. Besides, she said we needed to talk. I hope she's not breaking up with me…

_Yes, humor me please._

**x.**

She walks up to me wearing her knee high boots with a pure white scarf and skinny jeans. She looks flashy and you wouldn't know that either one of us lived in a cow dunk town. She instantly engulfs me in a tight embrace as if she hasn't seen me in years and I suppose it feels that way at times.

We begin strolling along the path together as I carry my giant purse close to me, placing my book inside with the rest of my contents.

"Are you planning on running away with that suitcase there Quinn?" She jests and I only have the heart to mock her as we continue to stroll up towards the steps. I accidentally bump into someone and I turn my head to apologize to the young woman, probably no older than Brittany and I. She just smiles and gets back to her own book—oh how I envy her right now.

I turn back to Brittany as she begins to go into a story about the production. I find it tedious in a way to listen to her achievements and while I have my own, I find her always wanting more out of me. Brittany is the sort of friend that looks out for you and just wants your happiness, but that happiness that you have sometimes isn't the kind she's searching for you to have—if that makes any sense at all.

We sit in a booth and look through our menus. I purse my lips out looking at the selections. I really am not that hungry, but since I was forced against my will to come on this lunch outing, I might as well roll with it—she is paying.

"Q you have to tell me about what's going on with you," she states, handing her menu to the waiter after we've ordered and I look at her questionably.

"Well—I got promoted to head of the advertising department at work," I tell her proudly with a big smile. She eyes me carefully with a small smile, hoping for more—like I expected.

"So, no love life still? Not even sweet lady kisses on the weekend?" She asks with quirk eyebrow and I roll my eyes, scoffing.

"God Britt—"I loll my head to the side, resting my forehead on my hand.

"No I mean seriously Quinn. You are the loneliest person I have ever met and I say that because I love you," she says pointedly and I stare at her, nodding un-amused.

"Oh yeah, I feel loved right now," I grumble, taking a sip of my iced tea, knowing alcohol really would save me from this conversation—I'm seriously considering it right about now.

"Q, your last relationship was like what—college?" Brittany asks using her hands to make grand gestures. I have half a mind to just walk away, but I know she is doing this because she cares. Much like my parents banter on and on with me about why I'm not married, but I am only twenty five; I didn't realize my biological clock breaks by this time. Are they assuming I won't be pretty enough for someone in say a year or two?

"I just want you to be happy. I mean all you do is go to work, come home, and sleep," Brittany scoffs, digging into her gigantic burger. Where she puts it, I'll never know because she eats this way constantly. I'm jealous—so I settle for my grilled chicken and mix veggies; brownie points for being healthy—fuck now I want a brownie.

"I have you know, I do go home and eat, and shower—sometimes sit down and watch television before I go to bed," I answer back sarcastically, holding my fork out at her; points out and she just smirks, rolling her eyes, taking another bite of her burger.

"Look I know you want me to be happy, but I am. I'm independent, I like it that way, and besides why the hell do I need someone? For my sexual needs?" I ask and she widens her eyes, gesturing like it's obvious with her mouth full. "Please Britt, I can do that myself," I wave off which forces her to choke a little. I smirk as she helps the food go down with her_ Coke_.

She begins to laugh after she swallows and I humor her since she nearly almost died from choking on cow. "I'll tell you what, once I get situated in my new position, I will start getting serious about relationships," I tell her and she smiles as a little bit of ketchup gets stuck on the corner of her mouth. I giggle, shaking my head, before handing her napkin and pointing where the smudge is, so she can wipe it off.

"Oh hey, I can set you up with one of the dancers on the product—"I cut her off.

"No," I say simply as she tries to reason with me about the benefits of dating a dancer. They have killer bodies (obviously; Brittany) and they know how to move out of bed and in bed (I wouldn't know that and don't care to find out; Brittany).

"Britt, I can't date a dancer because in all actuality, the idea creeps me out because you're my best friend and I love you, but not like that and the thought of dating a dancer is like sleeping with you and well—you catch my drift," I shrug and she looks at me confused, even though we've both reached that mutual understanding, but she shifts as if to take that answer as a good reason.

"I couldn't date a marketer," she mumbles, biting into a French fry with a smirk and I throw a used napkin across the table at her as she giggles catching it, before dropping the topic entirely.

**x.**

My weekend came and went as I had expected, so I sit in my brand new office, swirling back and forth in my leather chair in amazement. I love my job sure, but I just wish it was far less demanding. I can't get my weekends to myself anymore—who doesn't want their weekends?

I take in a deep breath and slightly wish it smelled like a brand new car would. You know when you're super stoked to get in a brand new, clean, dent free, car and it just smells—perfect? Apparently, new offices don't have that luxury. Bummer.

I sigh heavily, anticipating my phone to ring at any moment because the world wouldn't be set right otherwise. I sip my coffee and take in the silence, when a knock breaks through it. It never lasts.

"Come in," I call and in comes my assistant Tina Cohen Chang. The thing I found most interesting about Tina was that she is married to a man with the last name Chang, so I assumed she kept her last name and just hyphenated it; I was shocked to know that she really always had the last name Chang. The irony behind that certainly makes life easier under the governmental aspect.

"I have those files you asked for and _Pepsi_ called asking for a new idea," Tina informs me, placing the files on my desk and I roll my eyes at the caller. If we don't have _Pepsi_, we have energy drink suppliers calling for something fresh—new.

"They just got a new idea. They have the commercial with the little carrot top wannabe as a Court Jester, that girl from _X Factor_ and Elton John in one commercial! What the hell else could they want?" I argue and Tina just stands there silently, letting me vent. I just got promoted to this position, so our clients were already getting on my nerves.

"I always liked the basic ones," she finally comments and I looked back up at her, quirking my eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "Like the old ones with the little girl and the jingle behind it," she shrugs and I smile thoughtfully. Those really were the best commercials.

I point my pen at her and smile back up at her. "I think you're on to something. She isn't eight years old anymore, but how cool would it be to bring that dark curly haired bundle of cuteness back?" I tell her and she smiles widely, nodding enthusiastically.

"Mrs. Chang, you are on your way," I say and she laughs, rolling her eyes at my sarcastic undertone, before walking out my office. Now I just have to call them back and pitch it to them—hopefully they'll go for it.

**x.**

I step into the subway and it's packed to the bone as I feel people pushed up against me. It's the only frustrating thing about living in New York. The subway is disgusting and smells like pee, and you could feel the sweat just forming on other people's bodies.

It comes to a stop and I feel people push their ways out of the sliding doors. I roll my eyes at the urgency—it's not like we all don't want to get home after a long Monday, so we can pass out. I wonder what I should have for dinner—perhaps Chinese. I grimace at the pondering thought when I find my stomach growling rather loudly just as an elderly man comes up next to me.

"Someone's got an upset tiger," he chuckles and my eyes widen at the words. I have to laugh embarrassingly, when I feel breasts against my back.

My eyes quirk even bigger and I turn my head to the side and see a girl standing there, with her face buried in _The Hunger Games_. I'm slightly amused by this because I know of at least three people on my floor reading this series because of the movie that has just been released. I want to see it—I mean really I do, and I won't deny the plot sounds fascinating in a morbid kind of way, so I humor myself at this thought.

I turn back around to the smiling man, who is watching me carefully—maybe too carefully. Some pedestrians made room for him to sit and he really was staring at me way too closely for my liking.

"You want to sit down?" He asks and I turn my head around to the much smaller crowd as before, but I decline his offer by shaking my hand at him. "Oh c'mon dear, I have room," he presses on patting his lap and I look down to the dirty ground.

I'm no longer hungry.

**x.**

I pop my door open with a little force, before throwing my keys on the table as soon as I walk in. I drop my bag on the table as well, kicking my heels off and carry them into my room. I toss them in my closet and quickly change out my clothes, hopping into the shower wanting to rinse off all the disgusting feelings of the subway and scrub the comments of that creepy old man off my body. I can honestly say the three years I've lived in the city that has never happened to me.

I shudder under the showerhead at the thought, before stepping out and drying off. I change into sweats, before crossing to the kitchen to grab a drink. I pull water out, thinking alcohol couldn't save me now from the events of today.

I plop down in front of the television and begin flipping through the channels. Everything I don't watch religiously is on or random entertainment news shows, oh and my all-time favorite—reality shows. I growl, finally settling on a movie channel, taking a swig of my water.

The movie is a romance comedy—something about a girl meets this guy and one thing leads to another and they have non-conventional sex. Wait, didn't they have a movie about that with Natalie Portman and Ashton Kutcher like just recently? It seems like they only changed a few things in the plot and the actors, but the concept is the same. I roll my eyes—the originality of today is absolutely ridiculous.

I sit there and watch longer, admiring the way Mila Kunis just effortlessly looks beautiful in every scene. Only to aspire to look like her—or maybe just marry her; I don't know, she's attractive, okay? I haven't had sex since college and I'm not planning to do the math to calculate how many years that's been.

I just don't understand how does one have no strings attached sex and not expect to develop feelings for the person? I think these movies say it all. Well sometimes it isn't returned, which is why I plan to never do that. I couldn't deal with being the one broken—it's happened before far too many times to count and I'm not about to let it happen again.

Next person I'm with, it'll be real. It'll mean something special to me. Who knows, maybe it'll be the person I end up walking down the aisle to.

Oh the internal quest of it all.

**x.**

I step into the subway ready for another day at the office. I'm exhausted and by no means am I looking forward to going to work. I couldn't get to sleep at a proper hour because sirens from down below were blaring at unreasonable hours. I know that ambulance and police officers don't exactly have a time where they just close up, but why must the sirens be so obnoxiously loud? I mean really sirens, why?

I sigh, sitting down on one of the seats, happy to not have to stand for anybody. I cross my legs and look at my phone. It's early—about seven in the morning and I usually don't get out of work till about five or six, if I'm lucky. There's a meeting today with _Pepsi_ that I desperately just want to get over with, since I have to pitch the idea of bringing the girl with the dimples back. We have to contact her and hope she'll agree to it, but she's probably, what? Eighteen now? Oh god, I'm _so_ old.

I groan tiredly, yawning in the process. I blink a few times and it feels as if weights are connected to my lids and are threatening to be devils and push them down. I distract myself with the other people in the cart with me and my eyes finally land on a girl, listening to her iPod to herself. She's bobbing her head up and down slightly, looking out the window, even though it's completely dark since we're in fact underground.

She's wearing a hoodie over her head, so I can't actually see her face, but she has her feet up on her chair, so her knees are up to her chin. Only reason why I know she's a female is she's shaped like one and you can clearly see breasts in the hoodie—not that I'm staring or anything, but you know; distraction.

The cart comes to a stop and I pull my purse up over my shoulder and I walk out of the sliding door to make my way up the subway stairs to the real world. I rub my fingers over my eyes and sigh deeply, hoping that this meeting goes over well and painlessly.

Who am I kidding? Nothing is ever painless here.

**x.**

I plop down on a seat on the subway after my day at the office ends. I can honestly say that it turned out a lot better than I intended it would; achievement. I think that's what my old principal used to say. I dig my phone out my purse and check the time, and I'm elated to see I've made it out on time. Things are turning around today for the better; it's just too bad all I do is go home afterwards and do it all over again. My life is so consistent; it's almost ridiculous.

I lean back in my seat and turn my head to see a girl buried in a book next to me. I didn't even realize she was there until now. I wonder what she's reading. She seems to be really caught up in it. I move my lips downward in curiosity, bending over to get a better look at the cover.

I tilt my head to the side—I can't seem to get a good look at it. I lean on my knees and finally make out the end of the title—_Games_. I roll my eyes; really? This is the second person I saw reading this book in two days—is it really that popular? Oh great, another _Harry Potter_ and _Twilight_.

"Would you two like a moment alone?" I look up and see the girl looking over her book with an intense look of confusion on her face. I notice that I'm still leaning over in the position to look at her book.

I quickly lean back, knowing my cheeks are a deep shade of red. I've been caught in the act—of snooping on a book cover. I glance back over at her and she's still eyeing me curiously. She's stunning—so, so stunning. She has this dark complexion where I'm almost convinced it's natural, not that fake Jersey Shore tan—Hispanic is my guess; so exotic. She has these dark brown pools, like black holes you could just lose yourself in the abyss and these full lips, especially the bottom one. Oh God—I'm staring.

I look away embarrassed again and I see her smirk into the book, before I finally screw my eyes shut, moving my head back up.

"I'm sorry okay. I just got curious and there doesn't seem to be anyone else in this cart and I like to read, but I can't seem to get through an entire book these days," I ramble her practically my life story and she finally folds the corner of the page she's on—(oh my God, why would she do that? Poor book) and closes the hardcover and directs her attention to me.

"I get it—you're using me as a distraction, it's okay," she says with a small smile. "I like being used," she widens her eyes slightly, using her hands for emphasis and I can tell she's being sarcastic with me.

I nod slowly, turning back to the opposite window. I can feel her eyes on me still and I try not letting it get to me, until I finally sigh. I can't stand when people just stare at me obviously—it makes me uncomfortable.

"The Hunger Games, really?" I groan and she begins to laugh heartily at my words, leaning further into her seat.

"Now you're insulting my choice of leisure reading," she comments and I shake my head, not intending to do that, but I just want to know what all the fuss about it is.

"I really want to see the movie and I've been told to read the book first," she shrugs, fiddling with the cover and I nod in understanding—I've been told that myself, but I clearly don't have the time.

"Yeah so I've heard," I say and she smiles down at the book as I cross my arms over each other.

"You know, you could read now. You have the time," she suggests, looking back up at me and I look around curiously. Why the hell didn't I think of that? I groan slightly at my stupidity. She laughs at my reaction and her nose scrunches up when she does so. Her belly moves along with her and I find it absolutely adorable. I mean sure I don't know her name and I don't plan on marrying the girl; hell I don't even know if anything will happen past this meeting, but I can't deny her being absolutely attractive.

The cart comes to a halt and I stand up from my seat as she does. I look at her confused and she smiles slightly.

"This is your stop?" I ask her curiously and she nods nonchalantly.

"Yeah, going to the movies," she says with a breathy undertone, placing the book under her arm as we walk out of the doors. I blink a few times at the irony of our previous conversation. I nod in understanding as she walks along side of me.

"What are you going to see?" I ask curiously, trying to strike up more of a conversation. I've never really met someone on a subway and she seems really nice, so I really wanted to keep this interaction going as long as possible.

"The Hunger Games," she replies, making me stop abruptly and quirk my eyebrow. She stops slightly in front of me, turning around with a smirk, while I chuckle at her, before walking slowly back up to her.

"I thought you wanted to read the book first," I state and we begin walking again and she shrugs somewhat.

"Yeah well at the rate I go, I'll have to wait until it hits DVD or worse—movie channels," she gasps in horror and I giggle at her reaction and lick my lips, before sucking my bottom lip in my mouth. I nod, humoring her though because I know a thing or two about that.

I stop at the front of my apartment's entrance and she stops with me. "Well this is me," I shrug and she looks up at the building, squinting her eyes as the sun begins to set behind the horizon or in this case, the building—so it's pretty much at its brightest.

"Wow, I walked you home and I didn't even know it," she gives me a tight lipped expression and I smile small, giving her a slight shrug. "I think you tricked me," she adds, pointing her finger at me and I laugh, gasping at the accusation.

"Now I would never," I chuckle and she smiles warmly, nodding with narrowed eyes.

"Yeah well I got my eye on you," she jests and I smile, nodding, pretending to brush it off as I turn to go into the revolving doors as she makes her way down the sidewalk.

Halfway in I hear a voice behind me. I turn around and she's back with her eyes low again. I smile at the way they do that. I don't even know why, but she already has me smitten.

"Come to the movies with me," she states instead of asks and I cross my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes in confusion.

"I just met you on the subway, who's to say you're even _really_ going to the movies? What if you're planning to kill me?" I ask amused and she smiles, laughing gently, swaying at my accusation. I crack a smile in return, letting her know I'm kidding.

"Well I know where you live now, so if that was my plan, I'll have other opportunities I'm sure," she replies and I turn my head away, taking my lip in between my teeth. I don't even know her name and she's asking me to go to the movies—is this even a date or what?

I nod much to my hesitancy and walk back down the steps. She holds her hand out for me and I look at it confused.

"Santana," she introduces with a large smile and I return it with a small laugh.

"Quinn," I reply, taking her hand and shaking it. The softness of her skin is unbelievable as she wraps her fingers around my palm.

"Well it's nice to meet you,"

Likewise Santana.

Likewise.

* * *

><p><em>So this is part of my free day submission, but overall it's a new story. I'll be valuing my writing time to this particular story. My other stories are on hiatus for now strictly because I need to be focused on this one. So I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter. It may be a little confusing at times to read this, but rest assure, everything will be answered in time. So please let me know what you think and I'll have another chapter out for you soon.<em>


	2. Chapter Two

**I'd like to address quickly before you begin the next chapter. This is all in Quinn's point of view; no one else. You learn about Santana as she does. It is AU clearly, so things are taken slowly for the journey aspect of it all. If you would like to continue the journey further, then keep reading. But if you don't like the pace I'm setting, then you probably shouldn't read further. That aside, enjoy the chapter. - Sam**_  
><em>

_Chapter Two._

**x.**

I find myself a little baffled as we walk down the dimly lit streets. I don't live very far away from the cinema, so it makes it easy, but as I walk along side of her, I keep checking back behind me and next to me; the way her hands are stuffed in her pockets. I don't know anything about her, except the physical and that she seems kind of silly. She makes me laugh and smile easily, and from what I know it's certainly the way to a girl's heart.

But still, _I don't know anything about her_. Sure I know her name, but what else? I just met her on the subway for crying out loud in New York City. Anyone with half a brain could tell you that's a death sentence. She did somewhat give me her word that she wasn't going to kill me and I believe her—maybe that's why I agreed to go with her.

We walk in silence and not an uncomfortable one—well it seems from her end since she has this content smile on her lips and I'm freaking out on the inside. God, she's breathtaking under the streetlights. I can't handle this—I'm pretty convinced this isn't even a date, so why is this driving me insane?

"Two for The Hunger Games," I look up and realize we're at the cinema. My eyes widen in shock—how didn't I notice? Oh wait, you were too busy freaking out and being disgustingly creepy about how beautiful she is.

Then another thought hits me. "Wait two?" I ask and she looks at me curiously, nodding with a smile.

"You changing your mind or something?" She asks me as the box office person slides them out of the window and I shift my purse up on my shoulder further, shaking my head.

"No, I just didn't realize you were paying for me," I reply nervously, looking down to the floor. Is my breathing becoming irregular? When did it get so hot outside all of the sudden?

"I invited you—I figured it'd be unfair," she exclaims, opening the door and holding it for me to walk in first. I smile slightly at the thought, breathing a little easier because really it wouldn't exactly be fair, would it? Like I thought, it isn't a date.

I turn to her with a hop. "Fine, but I pay for the food," I point to her, feeling a rush of confidence and she smiles, holding her hands up almost in a surrender while her ticket stub is wedged between her pointer and middle.

"I'd never turn down free food," she smirks and I laugh, turning back to the concession. My eyes widen at the prices of the popcorn, hotdogs, nachos, and even the boxes of candy. Holy shit, when did small popcorns become six dollars? I turn back to her and she raises her eyebrow amused, as if she knows my thought process at this moment.

"What can I get you?" The teenager behind the counter asks with a smile and I turn back to Santana, who just shrugs at me. I turn back to the awaiting teenage boy with a small smile, lolling my head to the side. I feel so indecisive right now. I mean the money is not an issue, it's more so if I should share something with Santana or if we should get two separate popcorns—obviously two separate drinks; we're not that close.

"Hi we'll have a medium popcorn with lots of butter and two chocolate crunch Dibs, and I'll have a medium Coke Icee," my eyes widen when I hear Santana's voice come into ear and what the hell are Dibs? I turn back to her and she smiles innocently and I narrow my eyes, trying to figure her out.

The boy comes back with our food and I see the red containers and I pick them up, turning them around figuring out what they are. I feel hot breath against my ear and chills begin to run down my spine. Again the confusing logic still baffles me.

"It's ice cream," she whispers and I turn around, nearly brushing my lips against hers, but she moves away just quick enough for me to miss it. Damn it.

"You're trying to fatten me up," I retort to her accusingly as I pay and we grab the food and drink. Oh crap, I forgot my own drink! Then I see her grab two straws and napkins, before walking us to the theater. She smiles at my comment, then gasps mock offended.

"I would never," she clasps her hand over her chest and I shake my head, un-amused. "Besides, you can stand eating this stuff," she adds, opening the door and holding it open for me to go in. I turn to her in the dark and poke her in the stomach; she giggles playfully swatting my hand away.

"I try to keep my carbs to a minimum and my sweets nonexistent," I confirm to her, sitting down in the half filled theater behind a bald guy. When we went up the stairs, I could see the themed shirt he had on; I had to hide my slightly entertained laughter.

Santana grabs one of the Dib cups and pops it open, pulling the white plastic off and handing me one. I shake my head. "I demand you eat it," she says and I look at her, crossing my arms, scoffing at her words.

"You demand me?" I ask and she nods simply forcing the chocolate thing in my face. I shake my head, pushing her hand away. "No," I whine and she continues to force it forward and I slap her hands, giggling like crazy.

"You will eat it and you will like it," she says and I laugh hysterically as we continue to fight over this. I lift my leg to get more leverage, but it fails miserably when I kick the man in front of us. I turn a deep shade of red when he turns around and scowls at us. I mouth my apology and turn back to Santana, pointing sternly at her like she's a child. She pouts like one and I can't hide how adorable it is.

"Eat it," she whispers and I roll my eyes in fake annoyance—or maybe it's real annoyance. Who knows really.

"No I will not," I whisper back as she pushes the second one forward and we go back to fighting between pushing it back and forth until it lands pull force into her cheek. She gasps—I know it's cold and I bite my bottom lip trying desperately not to bust out laughing as the beginning of the movie starts.

Her mouth is still gapped open and I'm sinking in my chair, placing my arm over my mouth to prevent my laughter from spilling out and disturbing anymore of the theater's occupants. I turn to face her and I have to turn away quickly because she's eyeing me un-amused with the Dib still stuck to her cheek. I squeeze my eyes shut to hold it in, but I can't. I can't breathe. I can't speak. This is way too much that it hurts my belly.

I take deep breaths, letting them in and out slowly before I turn to face her. Santana's wearing the pout from before and I know she's doing it to get me to eat the stupid ice cream. Her left cheek is still coated in the ice cream, making its way slowly down her jaw. I mean what is one Dib going to do to me? Probably nothing.

I sigh and finally reach out with a napkin wiping her cheek with it. I'm not sure where that even came from, but she doesn't seem to mind as I keep rubbing the paper along her skin and under her jaw. I completely wipe it clean, finally pulling one of the ice creams out and popping it in my mouth. I can sense her victorious smile lingering and as I let it melt in my mouth, I subconsciously moan out in approval. It's like an explosion in my mouth and I quickly go for another one.

I turn back to the movie and I'm pretty sure Santana hasn't been paying attention to it either. She hasn't even volunteered yet. Shit how long is this movie? I check my phone, knowing it started at about seven-thirty and now it's about eight. A half hour in and nothing has happened? Oh my God.

I pop another Dib in my mouth as Santana munches loudly on the popcorn. I turn my head back to her and she's chewing with her mouth wide open. I eye her curiously and she continues to stare at the screen ahead, until after a few short minutes she turns back with her mouth wide open with a mouth full of popcorn. I blink at her and she giggles, starting to chew properly. I knew there was no way in hell she actually ate like that.

I turn back to the screen and I suddenly hear her huff and lift her feet up and place them on the back of the chair in the row in front of us. Her left foot sat dangerously close to cue ball in front of us and I silently hoped she wasn't going to kick him—like I had already done.

We sit there like mature adults for another half hour to the point where Katniss and Peeta I guess are training. Nothing important or anything, when I feel a piece of popcorn hit me. I turn my head and another piece hits me right in my forehead and suddenly Santana is in fits of laughter.

"Right in the middle," she says in a low voice and I shake my head, slapping her arm playfully as I grab a few pieces out of the bag and throw them back at her. She starts laughing hysterically, not even close to trying to hold it in like me.

"Shush," the man in front of us turns around eyeing us sternly, disrupting our popcorn fight. I'm not one to do these kinds of childish acts, especially at the movies and the fact that I'm doing it with someone I barely know, like I've known them my entire life feels strange, but at the same time it feels really good. I haven't truly had this much fun since—well high school, I guess when Brittany and I were cheering, but even then we didn't act like this.

I bite my lip and lean over to her. "Maybe we should stop," I whisper to her and she nods in agreement, knowing that some people take this movie very seriously—well just the series in general.

We sit there to the point where they're literally in the dome fighting and I can't tell you how many times my mouth has dropped during the encounters. To be honest, I'm trying to understand why the hell the government is even choosing children between twelve and eighteen to compete to the death. I'm wondering if it's like China, where you can only have a certain amount of children—population control. I'm settling on that thought, but either way it's strangely morbid and inhumane to think about.

"Oh my God! What the fuck was that?" I hear Santana yell next to me just as a new part comes on and I laugh at her reaction.

"It's like a dog or something," I tell her, trying to figure it out myself. Peeta and Katniss now have to run away from this weird looking creature—pretty sure it doesn't exactly exist in the real world. It makes a Pitbull look like a Chihuahua.

"That's like cheating though. Isn't that cheating? I mean that has to be cheating," she replies as the guy turns around again at her voice. It isn't soft—it's literally her usual talking voice and that already is loud, I've come to realize before the movie.

"Will you shut up?" He asks in a more shushed voice at her and she narrows her eyes—and not the way she's been doing it since we've met.

"Will you learn to look in the mirror? You're like fifty dude and you're wearing a Hunger Games shirt," she replies back and he turns around with a huff. I look at her surprised, but she shrugs it off. I know she's having too much fun and it's not a bad thing, but to be mean to the guy wasn't right, then again, he could've asked us nicer to be quiet. Then I remember he already has had to turn around three times—eh what's a forth?

"So what do you do?" She asks in the middle of the movie and I smile at the fact that she's ignoring his request for her to stop talking. Apparently she just does her own thing and I kind of like that.

"I work in advertising. I just got promoted to head of the department," I tell her and she smiles widely, nudging me with her shoulder.

"Well hey that's awesome, congratulations. Bet people are proud of you," she says and I nod, even though I haven't exactly told my parents yet. I just keep trying to avoid the same conversation that seems to come up every time I call them.

"So did you like grow up here?" She asks me and I shake my head, not realizing I was growing slightly embarrassed about where I'm from. It's not that I'm ashamed, but I don't know, I don't like talking about it.

"I grew up in a small town in Ohio," I tell her, sipping out of my straw from the drink. She nods in understanding as she eats another handful of popcorn.

"You don't seem too proud of that," she replies softly. Am I that transparent? Did my tone of voice give away the fact that I wanted the city life and not the cow dunk life anymore?

"I am, it's just that—," I sigh. "I grew up on a farm," I screw my eyes shut, ready for the comments to come. Sometimes when people do find out, they assume I have an accent or something, but I just have to roll my eyes—this time it matters to me and I don't know why.

I open one lid and she smiles warmly, popping her last Dib in her mouth. "That sounds really cool. Living with horses and cows close by, having fresh eggs in the morning. I grew up in Brooklyn, so I never had that luxury. I haven't even been to a farm," she shrugs and I smile at her words, feeling relief at the fact that she wasn't like the rest of the people I've come across here.

"Well maybe you'll go," I tell her and she grins, nodding at my statement. It wasn't that I'm implying I'd take her to Ohio because I'm not, but hey you never know. Maybe she will.

"What did your parents think when you decided to choose the city life?" She asks as the movie comes to an end—what happened in it, I don't know, but I'm too absorbed in talking to Santana that I can't care.

"I don't know. They were upset about me leaving them, but they're even more upset that I haven't been back in five years," I slip out and her eyes widen in shock, almost spitting out the last of the popcorn.

"Five years? Are you crazy? My mom would be devastated if I didn't come see her at least once a month, let alone five years," she says in disbelief and I've heard it all before. Brittany tells me to go home too and she even invites me to travel back with her, but I always refuse to. I suppose I'm still running away from it.

"I'm just busy," I say, which is probably not entirely true because I can't always be busy, especially when work does get closed down for the holidays. I suppose I don't really have an excuse.

We walk out to the sidewalk and she huffs at me, her breath easily visible in the cool night. "Busy my ass. I don't know what you're so afraid of about going home, I mean they're not bad people are they?" She asks and she sounds truly concerned. I shake my head under her scrutiny. "Then there is no excuse. For Thanksgiving this year; go home," she practically tells me and I look at her confused. She's telling me to go home and I only met her a little over three hours ago.

I nod. "Okay," I breath out, knowing I'll have no choice and I really do miss my parents, and even my animals back there. She smiles, nudging me in the side with her own body lightly as we walk down the sidewalk in comfortable silence.

Before I know it we're already back to my place and I give her a tight lipped smile. "Well I had fun, even though you're pretty childish in movies," I tell her with a completely serious face. She begins to chuckle, rubbing the back of her neck, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, but in all actuality, I just wanted to piss off the dude in front of us. I don't know, I like being a bitch sometimes," I look on at her in amazement, wondering if she was kidding, but from what I could tell she was nothing but honest. I chuckle softly at her admittance, not understanding it, but I guess I will try to for her sake.

"Well I should probably go. I have work early tomorrow morning," I tell her much to my dismay and she nods in understanding.

"I'll Facebook you," she jokes and I laugh as she turns around to walk away down towards the direction of the subway.

"Wait! I need your email to look you up," I call to her down the street. She turns around and starts walking backwards, holding her hands up in her hoodie.

"Type in Lopez," she says in return and I shake my head in confusion. Does she not realize how many people with the last name Lopez there are? "Trust me!" She calls further away.

"What about your number?" I scream even louder and she turns back around to face frontwards.

"It's on the Facebook!" She waves behind her and strolls down further until she is completely blended in the darkness. I look down at my phone, noticing that it's about ten at night and I log in to Facebook as I walk up the steps. I type in Santana Lopez and up pops one result. I breathe out a disbelieving sigh. There her face is in plain sight.

She looks adorable in her profile picture, with a cute little smile in front of what looks like a webcam at the Apple store. She has a single dimple on the side of her mouth with her long black hair over her shoulders. I didn't even realize I was staring at it as long as I did until I got up to my floor. I blink a few times, finally adding her to my friends, before logging out and going into my apartment for much needed rest.

**x.**

The next morning I awoke with a smile on my face, regardless of the fact that I was exhausted. I had a lot of fun last night. I stretched and instantly grabbed my phone to look on Facebook, hoping Santana may have accepted my request, but nothing yet. She probably passed out as soon as she got home and plus it is five-thirty in the morning. God Fabray, you're so clingy. I place my hands on my face—what is happening to me?

I'm content being alone, yes—independence is what I enjoy, so how is it that a girl I just met on a subway is taking over my entire mindset? I just like being around her right? It's not like I want to date her or I have a crush on her or anything. I like her personality and we'd be amazing friends—that's all; yes—that's all.

I get into the shower to wake myself up a little bit and by the time I get out and dried off, my clock reads six. I sigh heavily, grabbing my phone again. I bite my bottom lip and roll my eyes, huffing, checking Facebook again—no stop it Quinn, you need to stop obsessing over this. She'll accept it when she can—or she couldn't at all?

I feel my stomach tighten in that thought—that'd be devastating. I need girl talk and who better than with the one who got me into this mess to begin with.

I call Brittany and it takes about a few rings, before she answers tiredly. "Quinn you realize it is—six-fifteen in the morning?" She says, stopping for a moment I'm guessing to check the time and I nod even though she can't see it.

"I'm aware, why are you so tired anyway? Don't you have rehearsals?" I ask her, pulling out undergarments, sliding my underwear on as I hold my phone between my shoulder and ear.

"Later on, but I went out last night with a few of the dancers and had a little—well extra fun," she replies and I shudder at her words. I know what she's implying and I most certainly don't want the details, especially if it's with a guy.

"Oh lovely—that aside, I need you to meet me for lunch," I tell her and she sighs into the phone. It's slightly muffled and I know it's from her pillow.

"Why? I love you, but you never invite me to lunch anymore," she asks and I pull the straps of my bra up, walking around my room to my closet to find something to wear to work. I trial my fingertips along the multiple fabrics until finally deciding on a blue dress with black heels.

"I met someone last night," I tell her in a small voice, biting my bottom lip and I hear her shuffling on the other end, before mumbling to someone.

"Really?" She sounds more awake now—figures she would. "Where? When? What's she like? What's her name?" She rambles on in one breath to the point where I need to scream practically over her.

"That's why you need to come to lunch. I need to talk to you about it," I tell her and she instantly agrees to meet me at the bistro at the halfway mark of Broadway and my company's establishment. I finally hang up with her to let her get a little more rest, before I finish getting dressed.

I wonder if Santana would be on the subway this morning.

**x.**

I get to the bistro after Brittany, running a little late due to a meeting that went a little over than intended. After I left my apartment and managed to get on my route, I looked all around my cart and I didn't find Santana once that morning. Perhaps she took an earlier route or was planning to take a later one? I even waited a little while at the platform after I got off the train, but nothing. So needless to say, I've been miserable all day and this meeting didn't help.

I walk up to her quickly, my heels clicking on the hard wood floor. I meet her at the booth, hugging her tightly. "Okay dish tell me everything," she instantly jumps in with a big smile, her blue eyes glowing. I adjust myself comfortably and place my purse down next to me.

"Can I order something first?" I ask her and she rolls her eyes in fake annoyance.

"If you must," she waves over the waiter and he takes our drink order and since I've been here quite a few times, I order my food as well. He walks away with a smile and Brittany turns back to me, waving her hand at me to begin to tell her.

"What do you want to know?" I ask her quietly and she laughs at my shyness. I don't know why I'm getting this way—for the thousandth time, it's not like I actually _know _anything about her.

"Well where did you meet her?" She asks and I sigh deeply, letting a breath out I didn't even realize I was holding.

"On the subway route on my way home," I tell her as the waiter comes back with our drinks. She sits there frozen for a moment as I take a sip of my tea. She blinks a few times with a slightly confused expression placed on her face.

"The subway?" She repeats my previous statement and I nod, biting my bottom lip. "Oh honey, you're in _like_ with a freak," she shakes her head in slight mock shame.

I lean forward to her, gasping at her. "First off, not in_ like_ with anyone and second off she is not a freak," I tell her in a hush tone, wanting to go pretty much ape shit on her for calling Santana a freak. She's a little childish and goofy, but definitely not a freak.

"Freaks take the subway Q," she tells me pointedly and I blink to her un-amused as she lets out a small smirk.

"I take the subway Britt," I reply and she holds her hand out to gesture to me as she continues sipping on her soda.

"My point exactly," she jests and I'm not laughing. I wanted to tell her about Santana—she's important to me, but she's just making fun of her and me; I don't appreciate it at all. "Okay, okay, no I'm sorry—just poking fun Quinn. But tell me something about her," she adds and I breathe out a relaxed breath, calming myself down a bit. I should know Brittany by now. She'll joke around with me, but never actually mean the things she says.

"Well her name is Santana Lopez and—um, she makes me laugh a lot—and she's from Brooklyn," I find my voice trails off because after laying it all out in front of her, I've come to the true realization that I really _don't_ know _anything _about her.

She hums as the waiter brings out our food and I look at her curiously. She digs into her burger and I dig into my salad and she stays silent for a moment, I assume to process the limited information I've told her. She looks back at me as I stare at her, waiting for her to respond.

"Good burger," she comments with her mouth full. I roll my eyes with a small smile and she finally swallows her bite. "Do you have a picture of her? Because I hate to say it, but my comment about calling her a freak still stands," she adds and I huff, pulling my phone out and logging into my Facebook. How does a picture of Santana distinguish if she's a freak or not?

"Here," I tell her, handing her my phone. After wiping her hands on her napkin, she takes it and her mouth drops.

"Oh my God, you guys are friends on Facebook already?" She gasps and my eyes widen as I quickly snatch it back to see for myself. I've been waiting all day for her to accept it and there it is; she accepted it and I can access her info and her number. I feel my stomach swarm with pinches of nerves and I smile widely at it.

As I look up I see Brittany eyeing me curiously. My big smile quickly fades and I hand her my phone back, shrugging at her, digging back into my salad. I'm not at all fazed by Santana accepting the request. It's cool and either way, if she didn't, it's okay I would've still been okay with that.

I look back up and see her still holding the phone, but eyeing me slightly amused. She shakes her head playfully and turns back to the phone. Her eyes widen and I'm imagining it's not from anything else I don't already know.

"Oh my God, she's hot. I'd get my sweet lady kisses on with her," she says, still looking at her picture and I find myself growing slightly jealous. I didn't want my best friend saying that about her. But I can't let her know that, so I keep it to myself.

"Yeah she's pretty and she's nice—we went to the movies," I tell her as if it's nothing because it isn't, right? Two people going to the movies is not that big of a deal. However, I'm well aware I'm downplaying her looks. I know she's prettier than just pretty.

"Hold up, you met her last night, yes?" She asks as ketchup sits on the side of her mouth again. I toss her a napkin and she wipes it off, already knowing the routine when I do that. Somehow the smudge always ends up on the corner of her mouth on the right side—every time; it's strange.

I nod at her. "Yes I know it's not exactly conventional, but she seemed harmless. She bought my ticket, I bought the food and she even got me to have Dibs," I tell her and Brittany is now officially smiling widely at me as I talk about my night with Santana.

"If this girl can get you to have Dibs, then she's a keeper in my book. I can't even do that with regular ice cream," she says with a laugh and I roll my eyes playfully smirking in return, throwing my paper from my straw at her and she giggles. "So are you going to see her again?" She asks curiously, placing the paper next to her plate.

I look down at my half eaten salad in thought. I don't know if she even wants to see me again. Sure she accepted the request, but it could be a charity case. I can't hide it from Brittany—I like the idea of being around Santana. She makes me smile—it's that simple and I need someone like that in my life, girlfriend or just as a friend.

My phone beeps and I pull it out of my purse and a number I don't know comes up with a text.

_Had fun last night. It seems that you trusted what I said about the Facebook. Surprised you haven't text me yet *gasps* how rude of you? You no like me no more :( _

—_Santana _

I smile at the text then finally look up at Brittany who's awaiting my answer. I suck my bottom lip into my mouth.

"I think I just might be,"

* * *

><p><strong>I'd like to thank you all for the reviews. The outcome for the first chapter has been overwhelming, so I appreciate that in every way possible. I'm looking forward to hearing from you guys again soon. I love you all so much and I can't tell you that enough, so please review and let me know what you think.<strong>


	3. Chapter Three

_Chapter Three._

**x.**

I stand in the subway after work, my phone has been buzzing non-stop with texts from Santana and of course I'm replying right away. I wonder if she even works because she seemed to have a lot of time to talk to me. Half of the things we talked about weren't even relevant, but I can honestly say, I got barely any work done when I got back to the office.

The rest of lunch wasn't so bad, but I could tell Brittany was on to the fact that I'm trying to downplay whatever it is I'm feeling for Santana. I don't really know her, but the word that comes to mind is smitten. I know I don't love her because it's too soon for that and it's not Romeo and Juliet people.

I sigh deeply as the platform grows with people and I begin to hear my phone ring this obnoxious ringtone that I have yet to change. Do you know how hard it is to find a decent ringtone? It's difficult, especially when you don't feel like paying for one, knowing you're going to get bored of it by the end of the month.

"Hello," I answer with a smile after glancing at the caller I.D.

"What are you doing right now?" I hear on the other end Santana's voice come through the receiver. I look around and see other people on their phones and just bundled up waiting for the train.

"I'm getting ready to get on the subway to go home," I tell her with a hint of a smile, wondering if perhaps she's on the train and I'll see her there when I get in the cart.

"Why would you go home now? It's only six, the night is still young, come take a walk with me," she says and I can hear the puffs of breaths on the other side, which only means she's definitely not on the subway. She wouldn't be that out of breath if she was just sitting down or standing depending on the capacity of the cart.

I scrunch my eyebrows together and I look at the phone as if I'm staring right at her—it's the closest thing I got to the real thing, right?

"Um…how can I do that when you're not even here? Besides, that's what I do every night," I tell her as the train comes up and slows down its speed. I watch it on the rails, screeching to halt as the doors open and some people file out and others begin to push their way in.

I begin to walk towards the cart in front of me. "Don't get on that train!" I hear her yell breathy and I stop with a quick halt and my eyes widen. How the hell did she even know I was going to get on the train? "Turn around," I do as I'm told and I see her, breathing heavily with her hoodie and her hair is down today.

I smile at how literally breathless she looks. It's so simple, yet so attractive. She smiles as she keeps the phone to her ear as I do the same.

"Sorry Santana I have to go. There's this girl I met on the subway last night that wants to prevent me from getting any beauty sleep," I say with a smirk through the receiver.

She chuckles in front of me, throwing her head back slightly at my words, only to force a chuckle out of me. "Impossible," she simply states and I narrow my eyes at her questionably. "You don't need beauty sleep," she adds and I find myself blushing—I know this because my skin feels like it is on fire and the weather is already well into the high forties.

She hangs up and it only registers when I hear the line go dead in my ear. I slowly lower my phone down and place it in my purse then gradually make my way towards her. She still has that smile across her lips—she doesn't even realize what she already does to me. It's like one little look in her eyes, one little smile, just a hint of sound from her voice, turns me into a high school girl all over again.

"Aren't you tired of me?" I ask her quietly and she keeps a small hidden smile on her lips, shaking her head. Her hair moves freely as she does so and I puff out a breath, shaking my head away of the thoughts in my head.

She licks her lips subconsciously before running her hand through her long black hair. "Come on, I want to show you something you probably have never seen in the years you've lived in this city," she says and stuffs her hands her pockets as I follow her.

We walk up the steps of the subway and out into the blistering cold night. Headlights and streetlights brighten the city and it's no wonder New York has the title the city that never sleeps—it earns it. We walk down the sidewalk while a few people litter the same pavement. My heels click on the concrete and I look over at her to see her small content smile still on her lips. The wind rustles through her hair and I can see genuine serenity in her face. Her complexion practically glows off the lights overhead. I wonder if mine does that? Probably not.

Before I know it the crowd of people only gets bigger and I find it difficult to move around them till I feel Santana's hand lock with mine, pulling me through them. We push through, acting like true New Yorkers—no respect. Seriously though, New Yorkers are in so much of a hurry that they don't say excuse me or apologize, and supposedly they're some of the shittest drivers in the country because they're so reckless.

We step through a building with loud club music and my eyes widen. God I hope we're not going to stay here because I am definitely not dressed for a club. Santana still holds my hand gently, but firmly as if she won't let go so she could lose me. I didn't even realize she stopped till I feel her pull me up in front of her and place her hand on my waist. Oh God are you serious right now?

People bump and grind around us and Santana leans forward into my ear, her breath tickles my inner ear with hot puffs. "Just go straight ahead to that door. I'll be behind you the entire time," she says and I walk through the throng of people as her hands still remain on my waist. It felt strangely possessive, but I can't think too much into it because we barely know each other.

I get to the door and she opens it and guides me inside where we ascend up a flight of stairs. "Oh this is the part where you kill me," I jest and she chuckles as she pops the door open at the top of the stairs, shaking her head at my words yet again.

"Do you want me to?" She asks and I think about how odd that question is because really who wants to be killed? That sounds morbid and people should always value life, shouldn't they?

"No of course not," I tell her and she shrugs as I step out to the outside again—realization hits we are in fact on the roof of the club we just went through.

"Well then stop assuming I'm planning to kill you," she has that hidden smile still and all I can do is nod because I can't imagine or think of doing anything else—I don't have any words to say in response.

I let out a deep breath and step further out to the roof and scan the area before me. My mouth gaps at the sight in front of me. The night is officially black and the entire city is lit up. Car horns can be heard down below, the music inside is muffled but still loud enough, but through all of that, it's absolutely peaceful up here.

I see Santana move over to the edge—dangerously close to the edge. "Oh my God Santana be careful," I tell her terrified that one small step could send her to her appending doom. I'd be devastated if anything remotely life threatening happened to her, but that's in general.

"I'm fine," she simply states, sitting down dangling her feet off the edge. She turns around and smiles at me, patting next to her and much to my uncertainty, I go anyway. I can't imagine Santana would let me fall or anything.

I gulp as I get closer. She holds her hand out to steady me and I sit down next to her, placing my purse off to the side of me. She smiles widely and begins clapping. "Woo! Life fulfilled!" She cheers and I laugh, nudging her slightly. She wobbles and I hold my arms out to brace myself in case she fell. She stops, chuckling, most likely at me. "Just kidding," she breaths out and I slap her in her arm.

"Don't do that," I grumble and she giggles, wrapping her arm around my waist. After the first time in the club, it feels like second nature for her arm or hands to be on my waist. Sounds weird to think about, yes, but I like her hands being on me. Wait, wait, no, that's not coming out right.

I sigh in frustration at my inner thoughts and if she noticed it, she certainly didn't make any movement to ask me about it.

"So what do you think?" She asks softer after a few moments of silence. Her arm still around me, she places some pressure—some _amazing _pressure on my hip and I shudder under her touch. I can't really think quite clearly right now, but I know I heard her ask me that question. Even under her touch, her voice does not astray from my thoughts.

"It's beautiful—I've definitely never seen New York like this," I breathe out and she smiles at me. I can almost swear I saw her glance down at my lips, but I could've imagined it. My mind is prone to playing tricks on me like this, especially since Santana's come into my life.

I know one thing though, I can't keep my eyes away from hers. Is it possible to want to physically kiss someone you've just met? To have feelings—maybe not love, but lustful feelings for someone so badly after forty eight hours? How is this even possible? I never have had this happen to me, but I want it to progress somewhere. I just wish I knew what she was thinking instead of making little gestures or taking action, so I don't keep assuming she's just a touchy person.

"Are you sure you're not tired of me? You talked to me all day, which by the way I'm not sure how it is possible if you work," I ask trying just to get out of my head. I need to venture away from the thoughts that are possessing me. I can't deal with the idea of this girl not wanting the same thing as I do, plus I need to really get back to reality and stop staring at her lips and the rest of her.

She breaths out a laugh, pulling away from me and I already miss the contact. Curse me for changing the topic.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she tells me and I smile slightly, waiting for her to continue. She glances over at me and I eye her challengingly. She smirks, laughing again, nodding to get ready to tell me the first bit of information other than her name and where she's from.

"I'm a teacher," she admits and I snicker at her, shaking my head amused.

"I'm not that shocked by that," in all honesty, I can totally picture her teaching elementary, junior, or even high school students. She'd be the cool teacher that all the girls and guys want or the one that they can't stop staring at. She'd be what they go to school for. See what I did there? Busted song reference or for the younger generation, Jonas Brothers; oh jeez, I really am old.

"What if I told you I teach college students," she states more than questions. My eyes widen as a reflex and I wondered if my ears were deceiving me, but she nods seriously. "I teach Psychology. I was kind of really good in school, so I got my doctorate at twenty three—I'll be twenty six next month,"

To think I thought it was an accomplishment to get into Yale University, she got her doctorate just as I was completing my Bachelor's. I sit there processing the fact that you really can't judge a book by its cover. I mean I learned not to with actual books, that's why you read the back or the first couple of pages before you buy it, but with a human being—they don't have pages. You know the movie Shrek, where Shrek is telling Donkey that Ogres are like onions, they have many layers and you slowly have to peel away those layers to get to the core of what makes them who they are? I guess that's the same thing for people, well certain people. Some are easy to read others (like Santana) are mysterious and eventually will tell you what you want to hear, whether you'll be surprised is up to you to decipher.

"That's impressive," I tell her and she looks over at me when I finally speak. I nod to her to show I'm serious, nudging her slightly to make her smile a little wider because I missed it already. "People must be proud of you," I add to recite the same line she did to me last night. I choose to not have people be proud of me because call me modest, but I don't need the praise. I live my life day to day and if I get a promotion then it's a job well done and a self-pat on the back, then I go on with my work.

She chuckles lowly, nodding almost distantly. I would think that people would be proud of her. To get a doctorate by the age of twenty-three is well above average standards. It's remarkable and—well strangely enough…hot. Okay I'm done now. No more talking to myself, I can't around Santana and her brilliance.

"My mother was highly impressed as was the rest of the family I've remained close to," she replies, tossing a rock from the rooftop off the edge. I imagine it's probably highly dangerous to do that with people most likely walking by and waiting to get into the club. As it falls the tiny peddle can build up more speed and truly injure someone, but she never did it again as I watched it's route to the sidewalk, avoiding any passers.

"Ah, I don't like talking about myself," she laughs pushing the thoughts away, stepping up and dusting her hands on her jeans. She holds her hand out for me to take so I too can stand up. I take it graciously and she pulls me up with absolutely zero effort and begins walking back to the door.

"I'll walk you back to the subway," she says quietly. For once she's not all jumping and the spur of the moment kind of person. Whatever it is she doesn't like talking about really put a damper on her mood and I frowned at that. I really missed happy and freely spoken Santana. I just had to nod as we walked out back to the club, which wasn't nearly as packed as it was.

Once we hit the street, we strolled back quietly and not in the same silence before. It felt heavy from both sides. Her content smile is gone and she just looked lost in her own thoughts. For me, she's brought up several past times that I didn't want to remember either. She pushed me out of my element after one night and I pushed her out of hers in two without even trying.

We get to the steps that lead underground and Santana smiles what looks like a forced one. We stand there for an awkward few minutes as she pushes from one foot to the other. I don't know what to do in this moment, so I finally just turned on my heel.

"I'll see you later," I tell her softly, walking down the steps. I wanted this to end a lot better than it did. I mean neither one of us did anything, but we both seem to have deep root issues that are circling our thought processes right now that are putting a strain on how we handle each other. Whatever hers are clearly are effecting her harder than I thought possible. I didn't even think she had any because of how carefree she's been.

I sigh when I stand at my route alone, waiting for the next train to come by. I pull my phone out and check the time; it's a little after nine and I'm exhausted. I need to get up for work early tomorrow again and start my day over. These late nights with Santana have been nice, but they're putting a strain on my routine.

I hear frantic footsteps rushing down the stairs and I quickly turn around and see a flash of dark hair and a hoodie, running up to me. She's out of breath and she stands in front of me, trying desperately to catch it.

"I was—uh halfway down the street, when I realized something," she begins as I hear the train turning the corner, its wheels screeching on the metal tracks. It's loud and could be sensitive to just about anyone.

She takes one final breath as I watch her carefully, before she leans forward and engulfs me in a hug. I'm caught off guard, but I instantly wrap my arms around her back. For some reason it feels right to be wrapped in her arms completely. She pulls me tighter and I feel her bury her head and nose into my neck. I feel a strange sense of calmness rush through me—I'm no longer freezing. I run my hands from her back to her sides, down to her waist to pull us apart.

She smiles widely, like I just made her dreams come true and it makes me smile just as widely, before she places a piece of my hair behind my ear.

"Tomorrow morning can we meet somewhere between NYU and your apartment?" She asks stuffing her hands in her pockets and I look behind me as the train comes to a slow stop. I turn back to her and quirk an eyebrow.

"I'll do you one better. There's this nice little coffee shop between the university and my work, so just meet me there. I'll text you the address," I tell her and she smiles nodding, before pulling me into another embrace. It still feels as amazing as it did the first time. How can a simple hug give me so many feelings or emotions? Shouldn't a kiss or even sex be doing that? But a hug? I can't imagine what I'd do if she just kissed me on the cheek?

**x.**

"An orgasm. That's what it'd give you," Brittany munches on the other end as I lay in my bed. After getting home, I showered and got into bed, just to sit down and really need my best friend. These thoughts are confusing me. After forty eight hours, this should not be happening.

I tell her everything that happened between Santana and I, and how the hug made me feel amazing, then brought up the idea of her ever giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks Britt for that," I screw my eyes shut at the images that rush through my brain. I don't need more unnecessary thoughts to be piled in my head. Seriously at the rate these feelings are going, I wouldn't be surprised if that did happen though. As embarrassing as it'd be, I truly wouldn't be surprised if I got off on a kiss on the cheek from Santana. Even a little groan in sexual frustration—_just a tiny one_.

"What? You know I knew you had it bad for subway girl the moment you told me about her at the restaurant this afternoon," she says with her mouth still full. The girl eats nonstop; I swear I don't know how she does it. I just want to slap her just for that, but she is trying to help me work through my issues with myself, while making fun of me.

"What the hell are you eating Britt? You're crunching incessantly in my ear," I seethe because now it was just getting annoying. The way it's crackling in my ear, sounds like the line is about to go dead, but I know the difference. I've known the girl since middle school, so this isn't the first time.

She giggles on the other side, swallowing the contents in her mouth. "Potato chips," she replies more clearly and I just have to glare at the phone, shaking my head in disbelief. Potato chips, at fucking ten thirty at night?

I sigh deeply in the phone, leaning back into my pillow. The cushion is instantly soothing against my back and I just want to bury myself in it. I texted Santana the address as soon as I got on the train. I think back to when I took my seat across the doors I walked in. How Santana just stood there bouncing from one foot to the other with her hands still buried securely in her pockets; she watched me the entire time, from when I safely took my seat, to when the doors shut, to even when the train left the stop. She waited the entire time to make sure everything was okay. I smile at the memory, before I could even save it. Nobody's around anyway, so who cares if I look like a smiling freak in my own home?

"Q are you even listening?" Brittany says through the phone and it brings my attention back to her. She's not chomping like a dinosaur anymore, but I can hear her doing something with the bag. That girl better not have finished an entire bag of potato chips!

"Nope," I simply reply because it's the truth and I don't tell lies to my best friend, well except for the fact it's clearly obvious I'm in_ like _with a girl I just met.

She sighs deeply, causing a range of static in the phone. "I said—and if you were listening you would have heard it, I said if you want Santana so badly, ask her out, worse that happens is that she says no and you move on, but still stay friends," Brittany exclaims. She makes it sound so easy, but it isn't. I really do like Santana a lot and the thought of her turning me down would actually make things uncomfortable. I couldn't stay friends with her; I know I couldn't because I'd be too embarrassed or upset.

I shake my head at the thought. As tempting as the ideas that are flooding through my brain about what would happen if she said yes, the thoughts of her saying no are winning me over. "I can't right now. Maybe when I get to know her better, I mean we're getting coffee tomorrow before we both go to work, so maybe if things go well there I'll do it, but right now, it's—it's too soon," and maybe by saying that I sound like a pussy, but you are what you eat right? That is the saying, isn't it?

"Well if that's what you want," she doesn't even fight me and I wonder if either those chips are made of crack or if my friend has been abducted by intelligent life within the last minute and a half. "But I should warn you that you can't hold it off forever otherwise you may lose your chance," she adds and I have to nod because she's completely right. If I don't ask Santana out soon, someone else could and they could be more beautiful and to her intellect standards; someone better than me. I frown at the thought feeling my stomach building up a jealous tugging within it.

"And who knows, maybe someone already has gotten to her," I hear Brittany say and suddenly the thought of asking her out sounds like an even worse idea.

**x.**

I get to the coffee shop the next morning earlier than I intended, but I just wanted to be cautious of the fact that Santana knows where she's going. I mean sure, she's lived in New York her entire life, but she's never even been here so who's to say even a local can't get lost, right?

I stand outside in the cold fall morning. The sun is just barely peeking over the clouds and I find myself tugging my jacket closer to my body as chills run up my spine. I'm pacing slightly trying to keep the warmth running through my body, when I feel hands on my arms. I stiffen, but when I feel the gentle caresses down the fabric covered skin, I know who it belongs to.

I turn around and am met with a big smile, hoodie, jeans and a beanie covered Santana. I instantly return it and she pulls me in for a hug. I stand there for a moment, letting it sink in. I take in every part of her; her scent, the way she buries her face into my neck again, the way her arms are securely fastened around my waist; just above my butt mind you. Thoughts—and the ones I'm trying to avoid no less, start flooding back into my conscious and I get ready to pull away, but she tugs me closer.

I giggle as I try again, but she holds on tighter. "What are you doing?" I laugh as she buries herself further into the embrace, letting her skin tickle mine. It sends a weird sensation up my body, but I try to disregard it.

"I'm warm," she mumbles contently into me and I smile warmly, pushing my face into her hair. It smells like fresh berries and I am instantly intoxicated by the scent. My hands run up to her neck and bury into her hair, my cold fingertips brushing against warm skin. She shivers, but doesn't move away right away until another minute or two—or three, I don't know I don't want to bother counting.

We take in each other's presence until she finally pushes the door open and we walk in. It's not that crowded at this time, but there are a few using their laptops or tablets; smartphones—you name it, they have the device. Then there are others who are waiting for their coffees to go, so they can embark on their day.

I stand there for a moment as Santana stands next to me shifting from side to side, looking up at the menu. She bites her bottom lip as she squints her eyes at the writing. The way she sways it almost looks like she has a song in her head and she's just dancing in place. I smile down at the floor, hoping she doesn't realize I'm observing her movements.

"What can I get for you?" I look up and see the young woman at the register directing her attention to me and I step forward to give her my order.

"I'll have a low fat hazelnut latte please," I tell her and she types in my order, then directs her attention to Santana who seems to be distracted still at everything on the menu. I turn back to the girl, who's waiting as patiently as possible—for once it's not me this time.

I poke Santana and she looks at me. I nudge my head to the girl to show she's waiting and she directs her attention to her. Santana steps forward and smiles. "Hey Ellie," Santana says with a big smile. The girl, who I guess is Ellie, starts to smile widely, before chuckling softly.

"Oh my God, Ms. L, I probably should've realized it was you," she says and I find myself growing incredibly uncomfortable by the second. Who the hell is this girl? And Ms. L? Oh wait…she's one of her students.

Santana chuckles bouncing slightly, nodding distantly, "Yes you should have and how dare you for not," she replies pointing her finger accusingly and I can see Ellie instantly giggle and blush under her mock scrutiny. My eyebrows rise at the conversation taking place before me. Not only is this girl her student—her rather young, but very attractive student, with her long blonde hair and blue eyes. And the girl as dimples when she smiles! Dimples! I can't compete with dimples.

Santana laughs in return before standing closer to me, wrapping her arms around herself. "So Ellie, I'd like a French Vanilla Frap please," she tells her order finally and Ellie nods, then turns back to me.

"Oh your total is three twenty-six," she lets me know my total. Wow it's cheap for the two of us, I didn't even realize and that's when I see Santana pulling her money out and Ellie leans forward, placing her hand over Santana's. My eyes widen at the interaction—what in the world?

"It's on me Ms. L," she smiles seductively at her, before walking off to make our orders—or you know, just Santana's because I'm not even here. I don't exist in this girl's eyes. Stupid bitch.

I scoff when she walks off and I turn my head to Santana, who's looking at me slightly amused. "What?" I ask her sort of demandingly. I didn't mean to be that forceful with her, but Ellie has officially ticked me off. Santana shakes her head at me and I huff, slightly fuming now. "You at least could've introduced me," I add pointedly and walk off to the side, so I can wait for my order to be called. I push my purse further up my shoulder and I hear Santana laugh slightly at me. Really now?

"What for?" She asks holding her hands out and I stare at her in disbelief. I'm standing right there and one of her students is acting as if I don't exist. I'm a fucking paying customer for crying out loud! And she is practically undressing Santana with her eyes!

"Are you kidding me?" I ask her, my eyes hard and I shake my head, scoffing again. I feel Santana place her hands on my arms, rubbing them gently. She lowers her gaze to meet mine; obviously now sensing how I was feeling. "I don't like being ignored," I tell her quietly, before she pulls me into her arms, wrapping me in them tightly. She can't keep doing this—sure it feels amazing, but it doesn't mean it'll solve everything.

"Look, you obviously figured out she's my student and clearly she has a crush on me. Being that I'm close to her age, it's possible for me to sleep with her or date her even, but I don't want to. I'm not one to do that with my students and I definitely don't let them in on my personal life, so don't take it personal that I didn't introduce you because it's not her business. Besides, I have to get to know the person—truly know them and develop that connection," I listen to her speak as I bury my face into her chest. Her voice is soothing and when she sighs contently, rubbing her hands up and down my back, the next time her voice pushes through my ears it's like she's off in a daze of some sort.

"I have to have this instant connection where I'm not afraid to be myself, you know? Like I can show her every part of me—in do time of course, because you can't be overbearing on a first date, though I'm no Steve Warden," she adds and I chuckle into her hoodie as I feel her chest move up and down to signal she's doing the same.

I pull away from the embrace and look into her eyes. We smile at one another and I stroke her cheek gently, before turning back to the counter to grab both of our orders.

"Thank you," I tell her softly as I hand her the Frappuccino and we stroll out of the coffee shop. She takes a sip of her drink and I dip my cup back, instantly being filled with its warmth.

"For what?" She asks and I imagine she's either playing dumb or really doesn't know what I'm thanking her for.

I stop walking and it causes her to stop as well. I take in her presences under the now bright blue sky and sun's rays. She looks amazing, but I guess that's not hard for me to believe since I always find her amazing physically and mentally.

"For making me feel better back there, even though you are clearly a reality TV whore," I say with a straight face and before I know it she's doubled over in laughter and I can't help but crack a smile at her reaction.

"Did you just call me a whore?" She asks breathlessly and I look away dramatically, then turn back and nod frantically, before she shakes her head. She narrows her eyes and points her finger at me. "You madam are very, very rude," she replies and I chuckle at her words, before pushing her slightly.

When I do so, she grabs my wrist and pulls me back. I shriek when I feel her poking my sides and wrapping her free arm around my waist, pulling me up. I scream out in laughter as people pass by looking at us strangely and while normally I wouldn't do this with anyone, Santana is clearly different. She spins me around once and puts me down, and I can say I'm truly surprised that neither one of us dropped our drinks.

I laugh tiredly. My heart is beating quickly as I place my hand to my chest. She too seems to be in the same state, but she's definitely trying to catch her breath harder than I am. I suppose when she's holding me up in one arm it can be strenuous.

"We should make this a ritual," she finally says and I eye her curiously. That actually sounds like a really awesome idea. More time with Santana is never a bad thing to me, so yes, a thousand times yes. Jeez, I'm treating this in my brain like she just proposed to me. God Quinn stop it already.

"Okay," I exclaim coolly and she nods, before breathing out a puff of cool air you can visibly see.

"Well you should get to work. I'd hate to get you fired," she tells me and I look down at my phone and realize it's already eight. Oh shit! I look up at her wide eyed and she smiles apologetically.

"It's okay, but you are probably right. You should probably do the same, before your students call SWAT," I jest and she giggles softly at my words, but shakes her head.

"Nope, first class doesn't start till eleven," she replies and I push her gently, making her smile.

"You suck," I poke her in the chest and she smiles, before pulling me into an embrace. It's tight, but very comforting and I could stand like this forever, but since I can't and I have a career, it'll have to wait. I sigh when I pull away, waving goodbye to her before strolling down the street.

I take the chance to look back and I see her still standing where I left her watching me leave. She smiles warmly at me, taking her straw in her mouth. I turn back as my heels click on the pavement. I bite my bottom lip to contain the broad smile I know is about to appear and I thank everything that is Holy that it is cold outside to hide the blush now overtaking my cheeks.

* * *

><p><strong>I apologize for how late this is, but I really want this story to be perfect, so I take awhile to figure out if it's to my standards and think of other possibilities for it. I'm content with out this turned out and I hope you all are as well. Next chapter will have a minor time jump by a month, so don't worry it won't be anything you haven't already seen. Santana's still going to surprise Quinn with random places to go and their coffee shop ritual will be big for the story. Till then I'd like to thank you all for the reviews and I know this is being posted late and on a Monday (Tuesday for some), but I hope to see another review from you guys soon. Till next time guys. <strong>


	4. Chapter Four

_Chapter Four._

**x.**

It is mid-November which means the fall foliage is gone. To be quite honest, I kind of miss it and maybe if I had a house or something where say my gigantic tree dropped dozens and dozens of leaves every day, my tune would change. The last day of October was kind of fun. Brittany took me to this bar that was having a Halloween themed party and while she dressed like some sex kitten, she rummaged through my closet to find me something. I was unprepared, so when she came out with the shortest skirt I owned and a white blouse, she found my glasses for when I didn't wear contacts and told me to put them on. Needless to say, in no time I looked like a sexy librarian or something like that. She tied my shirt around my breasts too—it was uncomfortable.

To make matters worse:

_We step into Drunkin' Joes and it's packed with random people I've never seen before. Some males and females linger on at us and I find myself getting claustrophobic under their gazes. They're giving me the sex eyes! I shriek on the inside—it's the last form of attention I wanted from complete strangers. _

"_Owe it baby. You're a hot teacher for tonight; embrace it while I get us drinks!" Brittany screams over the loud pounding of music in the small vicinity or maybe it just feels small because there are so many bodies crammed in. She slaps my butt forming a yelp from within my throat and I glare in her direction as she walks to the bar._

_I stand against the wall knowing this is most definitely not my scene. I hate it here. I just want to leave, apologize to Brittany and just go. I look around the area and see from afar at the bar this tall blonde, looking over in my direction. She smiles warmly and almost sympathetically at me. Did I look pathetic or something? I turn away from her gaze and I look up again to see her still looking at me. _

_I roll my eyes, then push through the crowd, hoping I don't catch something I didn't want on the way there. I make it to the blonde, who now has her eyes peeled forward, sipping at her drink. She wasn't dressed in anything say Halloween-esque, but she certainly was dressed professionally. Her hair literally glowed from the rafters and her skin was a milky white, much like mine, but not exactly. And her eyes are a dark blue, nowhere near as light as Brittany's, but still really pretty._

"_Why do you keep looking at me?" I finally ask and admittedly it isn't the initial words I intended on saying, but it's what came out. She turns to me and smiles slightly, before tipping her drink further back._

"_Oh I don't know you just caught my attention. You looked uncomfortable over there. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to linger," she replies placing the glass back on the bar top. I eye her curiously, before taking that as a suitable answer._

_I sigh sitting on the bar stool next to her. "I am," she turns her gaze back to me. "This isn't my scene at all," I add, looking back into those dark pools. She nods slightly at my words and I don't even know her, so I'm sure I'm dumping my load of bullshit on her and it's highly embarrassing._

"_It's okay, it's not exactly mine either. But I probably should've known that things would be crazy here on this day. I'm from LA and it's the same way," she chuckles softly to herself and I'm intrigued. I've never been to Los Angeles, I mean I went to Berkley to visit Brittany when she was still going to her dance academy there, but never made it to Hollywood—I've always wanted to. I guess being a small town girl anything other than Lima, Ohio is fascinating._

"_Did you grow up there or just go to school?" I ask as she gets two drinks from the bartender. He gives me a once over and I look away._

"_You may go now," she says somewhat forcefully to the guy and he gives her a glare, before walking off to serve more costumers. I smile gratefully at her and she nods, sipping her drink and handing me the other. _

"_I grew up in Santa Monica, went to school in Stanford and became a DA in Los Angeles, only to relocate here," she replies and I widen my eyes at the information. She speaks so fluently about her life and her accomplishments. I mean Stanford is just as amazing to get into as any other Ivy League school and a District Attorney? Law school no less in Stanford? That's highly impressive. _

"_Wow that's fantastic," I mumble into my drink as I sip the contents. It's beer and as bitter as the taste is I can't bring myself to tell her I'm not a fan, but when she whistles to get the bartender's attention she pushes the drink I had in my hand back at him and points to me to get my order. _

"_Oh I don't need anything," I brush off at her generosity._

"_It's okay I insist, you're good company," she smiles widely and I blush at that, finally telling the man my order and he nods to get my drink. _

"_You didn't have to do that," I tell her and she places her hand on my shoulder. It feels like fire under the touch, but I imagine it would be here._

"_And I already said it's okay, unless your girlfriend will kill me if I do," she challenges and my eyes widen at her intense gaze. She smiles into her glass, sipping at it and I gulp as my drink sits in front of me. _

"_She's just my friend," I breath out, chugging majority of the hard liquor in my glass. I think of the double standard to my words. I should really be thinking about Brittany because I know that's who she's referring to, but in the back of my head Santana's face pops in and it hurts a little in my chest to even voice those words._

_She nods sitting her empty glass back down. "So you're not dating anyone then?" She asks leaning forward on the bar top and suddenly I feel a little embarrassed. This entire time, I'm just talking to her like she is any other girl. As beautiful as she is, I thought she was straight. I'm pretty sure with those almond eyes gazing at me she's most definitely flirting ever so slightly with me._

_I gulp and shake my head. She smiles gently at me and holds her hand out. "I'm Caroline," she introduces and I take her hand into mine._

"_Quinn," _

The rest of the night I only talked to Caroline and with Brittany every so often. I ended up getting Caroline's number at the end of the night. I don't think I'm going to call her because I know she's really interested in a date. Plus she did leave it up to me since she didn't exactly ask for mine. I couldn't have any more drinks than the two Caroline bought me because someone had to look after Brittany. I know how she gets at parties and even though she has hookups, and it doesn't bother her—it bothers me; it scares me actually. I don't want my best friend to be dead the next morning or raped while intoxicated. You never know, regardless of the city or town you're in.

I stand at the coffee shop, waiting for Santana; she couldn't make it that night. She said something about grading exams, which I found adorable, still nevertheless, I wish she had gone. I missed her terribly and she would've met Brittany. Although, maybe that isn't such a bad thing—the two of them together, ganging up on me? Perhaps, I'll hold off that meeting for another few months.

"Hey sorry I'm late," she breaths out in front of me. It's the weekend, but even on the weekends we do this little ritual. It just gives us a chance to see each other every day and I could never complain about that.

"It's okay," I smile and she wraps her arms around me, burying her nose into my neck and I shriek at how cold it is.

"Sorry my nose is an icicle," she mumbles into my neck and I giggle, pulling her tighter to get her warmer. We stand there as if time stopped, at least for me it has. We've known each other officially for a month and it's surreal to think about. This amazing, intelligent girl has been in my life for a month and as hard as I tried to hide the fact that I want more, I've realized I can't push it away because it's already engraved in me. Unfortunately, I'm still too afraid to ask her out, so I have yet to bother.

I feel her breathing on my skin and her lips grazing just under my ear. It sends chills rushing down my spine and unintentionally my eyes roll back. To have this effect on me is just plain cruel on her part.

We pull away and she smiles at me like she normally does as if to take every part of me into her conscious and I wonder why I'm so terrified to take that step with her. Because one it could all just be a figment of my imagination or two she could look at me that way because we've become so close. Either way though, if she said no moments like that would just disappear and I can't push that thought away.

We get our usual and we made it part of the ritual to not actually stay there after the whole Ellie incident, even if she's not working the day we come in, I still don't want to be there and I think Santana sees that, plus I like walking around with her and my coffee.

As we walk out, the door dings and I'm about to walk down the direction as if I'm going to work, but she grabs my glove covered hand and pulls me in the other direction. I look at her confused, but she doesn't respond, instead she just walks still holding my hand mind you. I can't feel the way her fingertips brush against mine with the cloth completely covering them and I almost consciously decide to pull them off just so I can, but how awkward would that be, right?

We walk back to the subway and now I'm even more confused. I didn't realize we were hanging out today, not that if she had asked I would've said no or anything. We stand at the route and wait, but I'm not entirely sure if Santana's being secretive to surprise me or because that's just her naturally. Of course, I never actually asked, so that could be another reason.

"Where are we going?" I finally voice and she looks over at me, rocking from the heel of her foot to her toes and she looks so contently at ease that it's almost refreshing.

"Brooklyn," she counters and my eyes widen. Wait. Wait a minute. Brooklyn? I'm well aware of where Santana grew up, however it's not exactly a nice part of the tracks. It's full of graffiti and I'm pretty sure I've heard gangs causing problems on the news over there. I gulp at the thought of my ass stepping foot in there.

The train comes up and we walk in. I lower myself slowly to a seat by the window as Santana crams in by the bars. It's pretty packed in the cart, but if Santana has to practically sit her whole body on top of me, then who am I to be rude and say get off? She smiles down at me, knowing of my prior fears of going into her part of town. I mean I don't know if she lives there now, but her family must or she could just be showing me around there. I hope it's the latter, I don't feel very confident in meeting her family members. We're not even dating, that's like skipping a step, isn't it?

My brain keeps flipping and turning in all which ways with panic, and random thoughts that my head begins to hurt. I hold my hand up to it and rub my fingers along my forehead to hopefully relieve some pressure. I sigh deeply and I feel Santana's arm wrap around me. I look up and see her give me a reassuring smile.

"It's not that bad, you know," she begins. "When my parents moved here, they resided in Brooklyn where all types of other ethnicities migrated to, however each neighborhood was divided up into cultures: Italians with Italians, Jewish with Jewish, Spanish with Spanish, African Americans with African Americans, so on and so forth. It was a good system apparently and my mom even said that you'd have to ask permission to walk on another's street, of course they thought she was a Gypsy and we're more hesitant than most to let her on the street," she educates me on the history of Brooklyn back when different cultures sailed through Ellis Island up to the point of when things changed.

"So what happened to the neighborhood to make it turn into that?" We pass over the streets of Brooklyn and graffiti lies on the buildings, papers litter the streets and it just looked like a place you won't want to walk alone in at night. I look out the window at the place Santana grew up and I wondered if it was good place to be in at a young age for her.

She sighs, rubbing her hand up and down my arm. "More Hispanics and African Americans moved. The place became over populated, people started breaking boundaries, and gangs formed. Most of the European cultures moved either to the Island or upstate—I had a friend who moved to Florida and she was of a European descent. They moved anywhere to just get away from what the neighborhoods turned into, but my parents stayed," I look up at her and her eyes held some sadness in them, but I'm not sure why. I hope none of the gangs overstepped any boundaries with her parents or anything to that extreme. I later discovered that "the Island" is a term for Long Island, but hey you can't expect me to know the terminology when I'm not from here. I have heard it a lot before from natives, but never knew what it meant.

We hop off the train after it gets to our stop and she walks me through the crowd and up the stairs. She keeps me close to her and it feels even more possessive than the time we went up to the rooftop of that club. She was protecting me, I could see it. We pass a few people on stoops and I don't make eye contact because I'm afraid to, but Santana nods up at them to show acknowledgement or respect because they nod back at her. She eases her way through the streets like she owns it and she might as well since she's grown up in these parts.

"What are dirty water dogs?" I finally ask randomly and she turns her head to me, eyes widen in complete shock.

"Oh honey, even if you're not from here you should know what those are," she laughs and I chuckle back, but shake my head to signal I don't.

"I mean I know they're hotdogs obviously, but what makes them so special in comparison to a typical hotdog?" I ask curiously as we turn the corner of one of the streets and we step up on the curb to walk the sidewalk as I wait for her response.

"Okay well you know those flashy yellow side carts in the city with the umbrellas?" She asks and I nod. "Those carry the dirty water dogs and it is said that these hotdogs sit in the water all day, sometimes it is said that the greasers don't replace their water for a week, hence why they are called "dirty water dogs," she explains and I nod curiously. "You've never stopped at one of those pushcarts before?" she chuckles softly and I shake my head under her amusement and she stops walking.

I stop with her and she sighs deeply. "I worry about you," she says with complete seriousness, before continuing her strut. "We're going to stop there one day," she adds and I laugh at her determination. It's always food with her.

"But back to my question, according to your explanation it's really all about the water?" I ask curiously like I'm a student trying to get insight on a breakthrough that can cure—cancer or something. I assume it feels just as fitting since Santana is a professor after all.

She nods, breathing out a puff of air. "Yeah they say that about the dough in our pizzas too, which by the way if you have not had, we're adding that to our list as well," she points and I look down at the street.

I guess I'm having New York pizza too.

**x.**

As we get closer, I can hear blaring of Spanish music and chattering. My eyes widen at the thought of us possibly going there. My stomach tightens as it gets louder and we get closer to the commotion. We turn down to the back which is layered with fences. There's a guy outside of the assumed party and he has a cigarette in his mouth. He looks up at us approaching and he pulls himself off the fence, walking over to us. Oh god, I'm going to die.

"Santana! How you doin' Cuz?" He says, pulling her into a tight hug leaving me off to the side. She smiles into the embrace and pulls away shortly after—not nearly as long as our hugs, just pointing that out to myself.

"Pretty good, Juan this is Quinn, Quinn this is my cousin Juan," she says and I try to contain my nervousness as he throws his cigarette away. He fixes his appearance a little bit in front of me, grabbing my hand and kisses it. My eyes widen and I look over at Santana, who's shaking her head while rolling her eyes.

"Hola no he visto belleza delante de mi. Quizá deberíamos llegar a conocernos major," he smiles charmingly at me and I can see Santana's smile in his, but I'm baffled at exactly what he said. As Santana bumps him, pulling our hands apart, I giggle at the assertiveness.

"Can't she's with me, sorry," she tells him, glaring as he rolls his eyes. She smirks at him as he shakes his head at her.

"Man! Why you always get the hot girls, huh? You totally ruined my thunder there Cuz," he bites at her and I look down to hide my smile that's about to form. I bite my lip to cover it up—the only thought forming back to when Santana said I was with her. I mean I am, but it sounded like we were together as a couple or something—apparently Juan was thinking the same thing.

"Because I'm hot and you're not, sorry," she shrugs with a jest, grabbing my hand and pulling us towards the party, leaving him out back.

I turn back to him as he watches us go. "It was nice meeting you Juan," I wink at him and he places his hand over his chest where his heart would be, before bringing it up to his lips to blow a kiss and I giggle at the response, before walking through the gate.

I look around at the crowd of people and I can pretty much be picked out like a sore thumb. I see some girls and guys dancing together, I see older generations helping with food, while dancing along to the music, some conversing and it looks like such a relaxing place to be. It's not relaxing in comparison to say a spa, but it certainly is a laid back set of people.

"Ah! Santana! My hija!" I hear a shriek of happiness as Santana is noticed. She smiles warmly at the older woman and it's obvious that it has to be her mother. She looks just like her, it's scary. The woman comes up to us and pulls Santana into her, embracing her passionately. I can see nothing but adoring love in her mother as she holds her so close. It makes me cringe at the thought of not having that with my own mother. It's my own fault though.

"Feliz Cumpleaños hija," she pulls away, placing her hands upon both sides of her cheeks, her smile reaching her eyes. Realization hits and I've taken enough Spanish to know what that phrase means, but I didn't want to interrupt their time together, so I'll keep quiet till Santana and her mother finished their greetings.

"Mami I'd like to introduce you to Quinn. Quinn this is my mother, Isabella," Santana introduces and I gulp visibly possibly, but if her mother noticed she definitely didn't comment. She smiles warmly at me and pulls me in for a hug and while I'm caught off guard, I find it welcoming all at once. I place my hands on her back and she pulls away.

"It's nice to meet you Quinn. Santana has spoken much about you," she says and I glance over at Santana, who looks away at the ground, assuming she's avoiding eye contact.

"Well hopefully all good, but it's very nice to meet you as well Mrs. Lopez," I reply politely as she places a hand on my shoulder.

"Oh please, call me Isabella and don't worry—it's all been good," she winks at me and I laugh softly as she excuses herself to go back inside to grab some plates. I look back at Santana, who is finally looking back up at me and she smiles softly.

"Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday?" I ask, folding my arms and she quirks an eyebrow at my stance. I'm supposed to be intimidating, but all she's doing is looking at me amused at the fact that I tried. I sigh continuing to stare at her. She smiles, then shrugs.

"I don't know; it's on Facebook," she simply replies just as she's brought over to some other people. I watch her go and I pull my phone out to pull Facebook up, hoping she's wrong, but as my feed pops up on my screen it says on the very top—_Santana Lopez's birthday is today_. I close my eyes at not realizing it. It's not that I was even on Facebook today to begin with, but I should've noticed it all those times I stalked her page. Wait, I didn't mean stalking—I meant—looking on curiously?

I sigh, putting my phone away as I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around and see Isabella smiling warmly at me as I return it.

"She is my pride and joy that one. I couldn't ask for a more wonderful daughter," she speaks English fluently and well I might add. I nod in understanding, knowing my mother feels that way about my sister and I. Any parent would feel that way I would think—it's what makes them a good parent.

"I can imagine you're very proud of her," I exclaim and she nods distantly.

"Yes I am. After she was outed for being gay in high school, she dealt with a lot. She was forced to come out when she wasn't ready and all I could remember thinking was—this is still my baby girl I held eighteen years ago and she'll always be that little girl. Her father on the other hand the hijo de puta, he disregarded her like she was nothing to him, same with her grandmother and grandfather," she narrates to me and now I know why Santana didn't want to talk about herself. She was practically abandoned by members of her family. Mine never cared when I came out, so I'll never know what that feels like, but her family is obviously close, otherwise they all wouldn't be here.

"It must've been rough for her," I whisper, but she hears it and she sits me down in one of the chairs as she sits across from me. I look down in my lap as I feel deep remorse for Santana. I wish I knew her sooner, so I could've helped her out—we could've helped each other out. During my senior year, I was trying to figure out who I was. Why all my relationships with my boyfriends didn't work out. Why I never really truly loved them the way they loved me. I was lost back then and though I had Brittany, I don't think she truly understood what I was fighting with.

Isabella nods and grimaces at the memory. "But she pulled through with the love from my side of the family and as you can see we love her very much and welcome her with anyone she brings," she chuckles at it, bracing her arms out to show her entire family and I giggle back at the fact that they truly are a huge group of people and are passing Santana along to give her love on her birthday.

"Well it's always appreciated Mami," Santana comes up to us and grabs hold of my hand to pull me up. "Can I borrow her for a moment?" She looks at Isabella like I'm the one she brought. Isabella laughs and waves us off and I smile warmly at her as we walk away. Santana pulls me over to where the music is going and I realize she's going to make me dance with her.

"Oh no, I don't think I can dance to this," I stutter and Santana grins, not buying it and pulls me closer, her hand just resting on my hip. She turns me around so my back is against her chest and my butt is clearly against her crotch. My eyes widen at the closeness and I can't begin to wrap my head around the sexual thoughts piercing through it.

"Just move your hips," she whispers into my ear. Her breath tickles my ear and I gulp as she rests her hands on both of my hips. Her thumbs place pressure on both sides and begin to push them from side to side until I begin to move them on my own. I feel her chest popping against the music and her hips swaying a little faster than mine until I finally get in sync with them. I feel myself becoming practically a part of the music and all my worries go away as I move with her.

I wrap my arm around her neck, running my hands through her hair as her head lays just above my shoulder. She rolls her hips into me and I deviously roll my hips around so they have no choice but to collide with the one place I know no woman can resist being touched. I'm pretty sure I heard her breath hitch as I did this because she pulls my arm off and spins me around so we're facing each other. We're so close that our noses are just brushing against one another. Her hands lay splayed on my waist as she rolls her hips forward and it's like the music is running through her entire body as it courses through her abdomen to her chest and I find my eyes lingering longer than they should.

She moves her hands up my back and down just under my butt pushing me closer, squeezing as she does so. I yelp at that making her giggle and I can't help, but glare at her. She's being touchy like that in front of her entire family that I'm already on good gracious with, not to mention—hello! We're not dating!

We hear cheering and chants, mostly for Santana to get some from her male cousins. The female side of her family are cheering for me to dominate her and I tense at the thought. I would so dominate her if I could. Oh shit! Quinn stop, just shut up!

I turn around quirking an eyebrow at Santana, who only smirks at my slight advancement. She stands there as I run my hands over her shoulders. Her eyes following my every movement with a slight grin playing on her lips—her dimple showing easily. I run my hands down her sides, making sure to run my fingers over her abdomen, feeling those taunt abs just over the fabric of her jacket. I shudder at the thought of actually touching them. I walk back around to her front and grab hold of her hands, lacing her fingers with mine now that the gloves have been taken off—literally. When they collide, instantly they warm at the contact. I hold her arms up and sway my hips in front of her, running my backside up her crotch.

I'm not sure where this confidence is coming from. Perhaps it's the way her family welcomed me and the way they're only chanting for more from us. As I do this to Santana the females cheer and clap, laughing hysterically at I imagine Santana's face. I know they say that ethnic people don't blush, but I can tell she's most definitely doing just that. The guys _ooh_ at us and as the song comes to an end, we stop and her family go crazy.

I laugh embarrassingly, like I was in my own little world for a moment and reality hit on exactly what we were doing. I cover my face as Santana laughs at my reaction, pulling me into her arms for a hug to almost shield me from everyone's cheering as I turn a deep shade of red because, you know, I'm not of an ethnic descent.

The music is turned down slightly and Isabella speaks up. "Who's ready to eat?" She says and everyone goes and sits at the table and Santana pulls me towards a chair, where she and I can sit together. Juan sits down next to me and he nods to me, giving me a highly suggestive look.

"You could do that to me anytime Senorita. Lo que me dio el deshuese," he says with a wide smile and I smile back in return when I feel Santana move and her hand collides with the back of his head. I turn to her confused and she is chewing on something as she shakes her head to hint that I didn't want to know what he said.

I turn back to him as he glares over at her, but looks back down at his food. I look down at mine and I can honestly say I've never had ethnic food before, but I'm pretty excited. It looks really good, so I dig into the rice and beans with the chicken and I know it doesn't sound really all that exotic, but I'm from the Midwest, we don't eat these in combination.

Over the meal, Isabella goes into old stories of Santana when she was little, even the embarrassing ones. I look over at Santana sometimes to see her covering her face, while she shakes her head, eyes closed to hide away from the stares and laughs.

"Remember when she thought she was a boy?" Juan starts to speak and everyone else begins to laugh. Isabella grows into a fit of laughter and I look on amused as Santana opens her eyes, shaking her hands.

"No, no don't tell her that story," she whines and I can't help, but encourage Isabella to in fact grant me with this story. How often do I get to hear anything from Santana's past? Never, which is why this will be a treat for me.

"Well first off I cut her hair super short because she got lice from school, so she assumed she was boy. She started wearing her cousin's clothes and they were much bigger on her—she looked like a little hoodlum," I giggle at her words as Isabella breaths out, knowing she's getting to the funny part. "I walked into the bathroom and saw her with her pants down and standing up over the toilet so she could pee. I asked her what she was doing and she goes Mami this is what boys do and this is what I am, isn't it? You cut my hair short so I must be," her entire family begins to bust out laughing and I turn around to Santana and pat her leg as she shields herself again from the chuckles.

"I go and tell her last time I checked hija I had a Santana not a Santiago," She doubles over in laughter as does everyone else. To think when Santana was little she thought she was a boy just because her hair got cut was pretty funny, but I know it wouldn't have been if she really did think she was a boy. Back then, genders were always decided ultimately by a girl dressing a certain way or girls playing with dolls and Barbie dolls—I know that's what my parents did to me. As we get older, we get out of those gender conforms that we've established to be who we want to be. However, it looks as if Isabella let Santana walk around in her cousin's clothes because it was okay to her and let her experiment with the idea of being a boy, until Santana finally voiced it was because she cut her hair so short. I think that's what makes this woman so special. Whatever Santana wanted to be or turned out to be, she let her figure it out on her own and never once judged her for any of it.

"I remember explaining to her that her hair will grow back and why I cut it, and she understood. The girl was five, what would she know, right? But hija, you like being woman now right?" Isabella asks and Santana looks up, blinking at her like a deer in headlights. She looks over at me, awkwardly, then nods slowly.

"Yes, sure do Mami," she concludes and Isabella chuckles, then they go through another set of embarrassing stories on her behalf. Even with that, I can tell her family loves her to death and that's the point. When a family shares your most embarrassing moments as a child it means they love you and at least they have memories, regardless of it being at your expense.

**x.**

"I don't know sometimes I wish I had a penis," Santana says as we walk back towards the subway. We just left her mother's and I had an amazing time there. I felt like I was a part of something, even if I'm not Santana's girlfriend like they all seem to think. Santana never confirmed nor denied around me, but nobody asked either; they just assumed. I got leftovers from Isabella too and she invited me back anytime, and I am so grateful for that. She's an amazing woman and I totally understand the closeness Santana feels towards her. It really does make me miss my own mother and throughout the night, anytime I'd see Santana with hers, I'd feel an emptiness in my stomach like I'm longing to see her. I know I have to see her again soon.

I laugh at her as she shrugs. "I mean think about it. How it'd be like to pee standing up," I cut her off immediately.

"I believe you already know how that feels," she turns to me and glares as I smirk in return. She shakes her head, stuffing her hands deep in her pockets.

"But not even just that, what it'd be like to have sex with a woman," I cut her off again.

"I believe you already know how that feels too," I point out and she closes her eyes, nodding distantly.

"Yeah, but it's different. Using your fingers and tongue is all fine—trust me it is on my expense," I nod in agreement because I sure do know that. "But to actually be able to orgasm along with her and be able to be connected on that level. I don't know it'd be interesting and hello, how does an orgasm feel for a guy? I've wanted to know that too, but no guy can ever explain it to me," she exclaims passionately and I look at her amused. Sure a lot of women think this way. I'm very content with my vagina, although I could do without my _friend_ once a month.

"What about being able to get a girl pregnant?" I ask as we make it to the stairs. She stops and her breath is easily visible in the night.

She turns to me and nods, looking right at me. "Yeah," she breaths out in a mere whisper. "To be able to create life with someone—someone you love at that, where it's a part of you and her. It's a beautiful thing and it's—it's just unfortunate that some people let it go to waste," she replies and I nod quietly as she continues to stare at me with her eyes lowered almost—I don't really know to be quite honest, but she is looking at me with such intensity and it's making me hot inside.

But I know exactly what she means—a little more than I should. I sigh, looking down at the floor, before starting ahead of her and walking down the steps as I find her following me instantly. "I'll um—give you your birthday present when I figure out what to get you," I tell her distantly, gulping at the end and she nods. I know I'm probably confusing her, but all this talk is really making me uncomfortable, so I hug her as she is slow to respond and I pull away quickly just as the train comes up, as I step in.

I sit down and I look up just as the doors close. She's looking at me sadly and I can imagine why, I probably just ruined her birthday, but she'll go back to her family and they'll make it better I'm sure.

**x.**

By the time I get home, it's rather late, but I placed my leftovers in the fridge and pulled all my clothes off to step into my shower. I let the water run over my body and as I face the wall, I feel a strange sense of loss and I can't stop the tears from coming as I begin to sob. They don't stop as I brace my hands against the wall. It hurts inside and I can't stop it from burning. It burns in the pit of my stomach and no amount of talking will be able to stop it.

I sigh heavily, taking deep breaths to hopefully calm myself down enough to get my shower done. I do so and push the curtain open to dry off and step out. I step into bed, not bothering with my clothes. It wasn't too cold tonight, plus the heater is running. I lay down and I see my phone flashing. I pick it up and see I have a text from Santana.

_I hope I didn't upset you tonight. If I did, I'm sorry. I just wanted to see if you were okay. I had an amazing time tonight and it was the best birthday I've ever had, so thank you for being there to make it so special –Santana _

I look at the text and I can't help, but smile slightly at her words. She's really sweet and that's another problem. I don't text back—instead I let sleep take over me for the entire night.

* * *

><p><strong>So that's the chapter and I hope you guys liked it. A gift from me to you on my 20th birthday haha. Thank you all so much for the reviews, the alerts, and the favorites. They mean the world to me, so thank you again. I hope this was enough for you guys. I know some parts will be confusing, but that's part of the journey process of it all. Everything will be brought to light soon, with Quinn, next chapter especially. So please review and let me know what you think. Till next time guys!<strong>


	5. Chapter Five

**This is the shortest chapter you'll have from me. This chapter if I did all that I wanted would've been way too long, so I'm breaking it apart at least in two chapters, if not three the maximum. Thank you all so much for the amazing reviews. I appreciate them so much, you guys don't understand. I hope you like this chapter and things will get "fluffier" in the next chapters to come, so look out for it. Till then please review and let me know what you think. Enjoy guys!**

** And remember this is a time jump from when they met. It's a month later, so just reminding you just in case, so there is no confusion. :)  
><strong>

_Chapter Five._

**x.**

"Wake up!" I'm dazed in a deep slumber when I hear the voice. The curtains of my window are being flown wide open to let in the bright sun. My eyelids flinch as if by reflex and I groan, rolling over and burying my head under the pillow.

"Come on Quinn, up. You need to be packed and ready to leave in an hour," I pop my head up and I'm sure my hair is disheveled as it always is when I wake up. I squint and see Santana walking around my bedroom, trying to make as much noise as possible to wake me up.

"Why? Where are we going?" I ask in my usually tired, rasp of a voice. I hate it—I sound sick all the damn time.

She continues shuffling, opening draws and slamming them shut. I sigh heavily falling back into my pillow. Please let this girl leave already to let me sleep.

"No questions just get up," she says in a frantic tone and I yawn, turning over on my stomach to bury myself back into my bed. If she won't answer my question, then I refuse to get up. I sigh contently into my pillows, when one eye lid pops open.

"Wait, how did you get in here?" I know she's still in my room because her presence definitely lingers and I can hear her footsteps still, but they suddenly stop and she glances over her shoulder, eyes wide as if she is guilty.

She falters. "Uh—hey I said no more questions, now get up," she quickly recovers, shaking her head, before walking past my bed and grabbing the covers, tossing them off me.

"Santana!" I shriek and I quickly toss the pillows I once laid comfortably behind my head over my body. Santana stood frozen, holding the comforter in one hand. She is staring right at me and I'm pretty sure I'm turning a deep shade of red. I'm sitting up, semi exposed thanks to my pillows in front of the girl I want.

Suddenly she begins smiling and giggling. "It's not funny Santana!" I yell and she only doubles over in laughter to the point where she can't breathe. She still holds the comforter and I can't make any sudden movements otherwise she'll see everything—where would the mystery be? The allure? There wouldn't be any and it'd be her fault.

I smirk when a thought pops into my head. She's still laughing hysterically, when I speak. "Show me," she stops instantly and she's trying to catch her breath.

"What?" She looks at me curiously and I urge her with my shoulders.

"Show me. It's only fair," I state and she begins to shift on her feet, before she smirks back at me amused. She shrugs, before slipping her jacket off her shoulders. She tosses it on the bed and her hands immediately make their way to her belt. Oh god! She's really going to do it! I feel the blush creeping up and I sit there with my eyes trained on each movement of her hands. She unbuttons her pants and slides them down her tan legs. Oh okay, um—okay, no there is no time to be reacting this way when you can't touch.

She slips them off and tosses them on the bed with her jacket. She moves back up to her shirt, before pulling it over her head and tosses it with the rest of her clothes. The way her breast hug in her bra is almost criminal. They're perfect—aw fuck, come on, really? Stop tempting me damn it!

She stands there in just her bra and underwear wearing that small smirk on her lips, before raising her hand slowly up to her bra. She turns around and I can visibly see her hands working the clasp before the fabric goes limp around them. She tosses the bra over her shoulder and the muscles of her back tense; flex. I lick my lips subconsciously, but she's not looking so I can't be making an embarrassing move.

She begins to walk away and as she does so, she slips her underwear down as she walks out of the room. She tosses the fabric back into the room and they land right on my mattress.

"Get dressed and packed!" She yells from the living room and I'm in awe at what I just saw. I didn't even see anything. A flash of a butt and maybe a side boob, but nothing more. I sigh frustrated in myself. My sexual needs are running haywire even more so now.

"I didn't see anything though!" I holler back and I can hear the padding of her footsteps. She pops her head back inside, a grin plays on her lips.

"You got me to strip in front of you. I think that's enough, besides I didn't really see much either," She shrugs and walks away again—somewhere, I don't know.

I sigh deeply, before getting up from my bed to walk to the bathroom. "By the way! You have a nice ass Q!"

Nice cold shower. Yes a must need right now.

**x.**

I step out of my bedroom cautiously, fully dressed and packed like Santana insisted. Wherever she's taking me must be really down low if she refuses to tell me. This morning was eventful and I can't believe in my stupidity that I slept naked. I never sleep naked—bra and underwear yes, but even then it would've been awkward for Santana to see me in that. However she didn't seem to care on her end. Ugh! I envy her confidence.

When I step down the hall I'm expecting to see Santana still butt naked being that her clothes are held firmly in my hand, and well I don't have time to go back in for another cold shower, so I'm just—bracing myself. In the kitchen, Santana stands by the coffee maker, fully clothed? I look down at the garments in my hand. I know these are hers! I saw her take them off! Oh great, now the imagery is flooding back in to my subconscious; fantastic.

"Santana?" She looks up and I didn't even realize I spoke, but she smiles and walks over to me with two of my on the go mugs and hands me one.

"I put other clothes on when you were in the shower," she explained taking the pile I had neatly folded from my hands and held them as she sipped on her Hazelnut blend; something she doesn't usually drink and I'm curious as to why she is now.

"Where are we going?" I repeat my previous question and she walks back to the door as she sips some more of her coffee. I watch her retreating figure and I know she is only stalling the question. "Look I packed for like three days without knowing how long we're even going to be gone for, so if I need to pack more than let me know that much," I say with more irritation visible in my voice. I like her so fucking much, but the secrecy is unnerving.

"That's enough," she chimes in as she zips her bag up after placing her other clothes inside. I shake my head inhaling the Hazelnut from my coffee. It smells even better than the shop that we stop at every morning. I sip it and I moan at the instant taste. It's not too strong, but it's enough to let my taste buds run amuck.

I look up and see her staring at me, and I look away hiding from her gaze. To not talk about what happened this morning is a little unsettling in my stomach, no matter how delicious this coffee is.

"Come on, we're going to be late," she speaks up and I look back up as she advances towards me, picking up my suitcase. She grunts a little at the weight, but she tries desperately to hide it. She's such a guy sometimes.

"I can carry it myself if you'd like," I say as I grab my keys. The front door is already open and she just turns to me with a smile shaking her head.

"Nope, I've got it," she replies and I nod, hiding the slight blush that crept up my neck to most likely take over my entire face. I shut the door after we've walked out and lock my door, placing the keys in my purse.

We step outside after taking a short ride down the elevator and Santana stops at the curb. I step up next to her wondering why we're not taking the subway to where our destination is. We always take the subway and forget it a cab is fifteen times slower, hence why so many people take the subway—desperation to get to their destination.

Santana places her pointer and thumb together, before nudging them securely between her lips. She blows and a loud whistle comes out in return. My eyes widen at the trick—I say trick because I can't do that and I'll probably never be able to. Even if I asked her to teach me, I'm positive I'll just make a fool out of myself.

A taxi stops on the curb and the driver steps out to take our bags, then runs back around to the driver's side while we hop in the back. After getting situated comfortably, the driver looks through his rearview mirror at us, while we fasten our seatbelts.

"JFK please," Santana says and I snap my head in her direction. He nods, before pulling out into the right lane. I continue to stare at her curiously, but I know if I ask why we're going to the airport, she'll just deflect it or tell me the same thing she's been telling me all morning.

I hand her back her mug since she was busy lugging our bags downstairs—I had to do something. I sip my coffee quietly, staring out the window, admiring the city I've come to adore. Upon moving here, I took a trip one year in school for a singing competition and Time Square along with Central Park made me putty in this city's hands (figuratively, of course).

The way the lights accentuate the entire city, day and night could marvel any tourist. The way Central Park litters with people by day around the giant fountain in the center, then by night it brightens and really brings out the character of the place. The peace and serenity I feel every time I step foot through its gates sends me back to the only place that I remember ever feeling that at ease.

"Wait!" I voice unsystematically and it catches Santana's attention. "Are we going to—Ohio?" I ask curiously, realizing there was no other place we've talked about and her family is here. Santana just stares at me, before turning back to the windshield to see us going underneath a tunnel—we are close to the airport.

"Yes," she finally says and my jaw tightens at the admittance. How could she do this to me? It's a hint alone that I haven't been back in five years. Obviously, I'm not going back for a reason and the fact that she went behind my back, booked two tickets no less (I'm assuming to make sure I actually go), and basically force me to go is so highly disrespectful—I've never felt so betrayed in this moment and perhaps it just feels that way because I know where my feelings stand with her because I have had worse things happen to me.

The taxi comes to a stop at the airport entrance and she pays the driver after he takes our bags out. She carries them inside and I speed walk ahead of her because honestly, I don't want to be near her right now. She doesn't say anything, but she just catches up to me, then we stand at the security gate.

I train my eyes away from her and my whole demeanor towards her has changed. I can feel hers has as well, but she still looks determined to get us to Ohio.

"I don't understand why you're so upset. You promised you'd go home for Thanksgiving," she shrugged and I look back at her. Thanksgiving isn't until—tomorrow. My eyes search from side to side—did I forget all about making arrangements? I know I promised to do so, but I never thought to actually do it. I mean yesterday at Santana's mom's it made me realize I needed to go home, but then the conversation we had going to the subway threw me off and I just couldn't bring myself to ever return.

I feel my chest tighten at the past thoughts and I see her sigh, shifting to take her shoes off and grab a crate to place her change, wallet, and keys in it along with her shoes. I grab one slowly and do the same, placing my purse inside as she places the bags on top of the wheeling platform as well.

We step through the detector and grab our things to go looking for our gate. Santana has the tickets in her hands, scrunching them up a little from holding the bags as well, but it's a short distance to the gate and we take a seat.

We sit there silently and Santana shakes her head. "I thought I was doing the right thing here," she says softly and I just glance at her.

"Sometimes the right thing isn't always right," I reply coldly, crossing my arms over my chest while crossing my legs over each other. Santana leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees and lets out a deep sigh. She runs her hand through her hair and shakes her head in what looked like disbelief.

"You're special to your parents," she begins and I roll my eyes, scoffing.

"Look you don't know my parents, so don't assume anything about them," I bite back and she looks at me wide-eyed, but continues.

"Obviously you are though! Otherwise they wouldn't call you, they wouldn't care about your well-being as far as relationships go, they wouldn't have helped you through college, and they most certainly wouldn't want you to come visit, so regardless of you not liking my assumption, I'd say I'm pretty accurate, but you're too damn stubborn to give a shit," she seethes back and I shake my head distantly.

I puff out a breath, then stare at her with a hard stare. "Why don't you go and psychoanalyze somebody who cares," I tell her sternly, but in a low tone of voice. She returns back my hard gaze and I see her jaw clench at my words, before she nods slowly.

She grimaces at me. "That's what you think, huh? I'm psychoanalyzing you? Well how is this for psychoanalyzing: you probably had a few rough patches in your past that you're afraid of dealing with, so you run away from them and I'm guessing one of them had to do with a baby because you seemed to run away fairly quickly when we fell on the topic yesterday. Inside you're that scared little girl back in Lima Ohio, but you know, that's just me assuming things, so don't quote me on it. But if that's the case, I'm here to listen if you want to talk about it, till then I'm going to get something to eat," Santana exclaims and between her speech, I could feel the walls caving in around me as she broke me a part into little pieces. It's like she was always in my life and she watched me deal with everything, but she wasn't.

She's observant and I guess that's the price you pay for being close to someone with a Psychology degree. She's gone now, probably off by Dunkin' Donuts and I never felt so alone. I rub my arms discreetly, trying to pull myself together, but as I do so, the more I realize is that I can't. She is right and she's exposed the parts I've been trying desperately to bury. It's not fair to me, is it? To hold every negative thing in my past inside till it forces me to crumble. It's no wonder why I haven't yet. Maybe in reality is I just need someone to listen. For once to not tell me I need a relationship to be happy, but to just have someone listen to my words instead of me having to listen to others.

She returns with a bagel and hands me one as well. I smile appreciatively—even through our little argument, she thought of me.

She begins to munch on her first half as I fiddle with the slightly off yellow paper for a moment. I sigh deeply, shutting my eyes to relax my rapid heart. I take a deep breath, then reopen my eyes. "I had no friends up until middle school," I speak and Santana looks over at me, her arm drapes over the chair I'm sitting in, so I lean further back into it and she closes her fingertips along my shoulder.

"I was bullied for different things: my weight, my hair, I had glasses; I didn't look like my sister did—I envied her. Then I met Brittany and she became the most important person in my life. She began to get bullied herself for being friends with me because she was tall, blonde, and skinny—everything I wasn't, but no matter how much I tried to relieve her of what I felt was an obligation to be my friend; she stayed," I stop for a beat as Santana, traces her fingertips along my shoulder. It's soothing and I relax instantly at the small touches. I open the paper and rip a piece of my bagel off to take a bite.

I chew slowly and continue further. "I told Brittany I wanted things to be different for us in high school, so my mom let me dye my hair and get contacts, but Brittany helped me lose weight. We ran together every day and even through the days I hated it, she was there to help me never give up, so I lost all the weight and by freshman year—I was beautiful; the epitome of what people wanted," I pause to take another bite of my bagel.

"We became cheerleaders and the head bitches at that school—everyone cowered in fear when we walked those halls and it's hard to believe that we started from the bottom only to reach the top in a matter of a year. Sophomore year, there was football player and I knew he could salvage my reputation, so we dated, but his best friend ruined that by getting me tipsy on wine coolers while at a party. I was having a bad day and my self-loathing was going haywire, so I slept with him. He was my first and he got me pregnant," I look down ashamed and I close my eyes at just how terrible I feel.

"And the baby?" I hear Santana ask quietly. I sigh and look up at her with visible tears stinging at the edge just about ready to spill over.

"I gave birth to her and gave her up for an adoption. I regretted it for the longest time and even thought I could take her back, but I realized I couldn't provide her nearly with enough care than what her adoptive mother could, so I gave up," I shrug and she nods, urging me to continue, even though I know she desperately hoped there wasn't more—but boy will she be surprised.

I gulp down letting my throat restrict, before letting out a small sigh. "Then my senior year, I had a crush on this girl in my Glee Club, but she was marrying my ex-boyfriend; the one I cheated on with his best friend and on my way there—she was texting me and I stupidly went to reply. I got slammed by a truck and became paralyzed from the waist down," I say and I feel her grip me tighter, pulling me closer to her body as I force out my response.

"With a lot of physical therapy, I was able to gain feeling back and walk again, but it took every day since I was determined enough to get back on my feet," I finish and Santana lays her head on top of mine as mine now lays on her shoulder.

I went through every little thing in my past and she won't say a word. I'm sure she doesn't have any to express because how can she? I know everything could have turned out worse for me, but laying it all out in the open like it's a list makes me realize just how bad things got in high school.

Having her arms around me holding me in her embrace after everything I've expressed to her made me realize it was the best decision I could've ever done. She's one of my best friends first and foremost. She wants me to be happy; that much I'm sure of, but more than anything she wants me to be free. Free from the self-loathing, the past that still hinders in the air my every waking day and thus far she's helped me through so much.

The first night, making me have that ice cream was the start. I've always been body conscious since that summer I lost all my weight, not treating myself to anything because I thought it was going to make me what I was before. It's an unhealthy mindset; I realize that now and without Santana, I'd still be that person, but now I treat myself to little things, knowing it won't kill me. This Ohio trip is just another stepping stone.

"We don't have to go," I hear her breath out and I just shake my head, burying my face further into her chest. Her smell intoxicates me and fills my senses; regardless of anything we've just fought over, doesn't change how I feel towards her—it probably makes me like her all the more because of how much she cares.

"How much did you pay for them?" I mumble into her shirt. Her hand circles my back and she sighs deeply. Her heart is beating frantically against my ear, but it only makes me clutch her tighter because I know she's real. I know it sounds crazy, but I just don't want her to go anywhere, even though I know she won't.

She chuckles softly. "A lot," she breaths out and I nod, before pulling away to look at her. I smile, before wrapping my arms completely around her neck and pulling forward to the point where she nearly collapses on me. She holds her hands out to steady herself on the chairs and I giggle as she holds her body above mine.

"Splurging on me?" I ask jokingly and she looks at me with that look of almost adoration again with the hint of her smile still playing on her lips.

"I think you're worth it," she whispers and I look away to hide the blush making its way to the surface. I sigh deeply—this girl is perfect in every way. I can only return my gaze back and she has made no sudden movements to get up, not that she could with my arms wrapped still so securely around her neck.

"We're going," I conclude and she settles herself on my body, but not enough to where it's her entire weight. She's comfortable and is waiting for me to continue since her head is tilted to the side waiting for my explanation.

"I need to go. You're right. I need to face my past and not let it control me anymore. I've lost so much time with my family and I want them to meet you. Your family was just so welcoming and I want you to be able to experience that with mine," I explain to her and she smiles, before leaning down and burying her face into my neck. Her breath tickles my neck yet again and I can't help but just wrap my arms around her.

"I get to see some cows and horses, and chickens, and piglets," Santana runs off into my neck and I giggle at her words, nodding to every animal she said. "See you driving a truck," I stop my nodding and shake my head, running my fingertips up and down her spine. She shivers into my embrace as I continue my ministrations.

"It's a stick shift and I can't drive one," I tell her contently and she looks up, eyeing me in disbelief. "What? I got a Beetle for my birthday and it was automatic," I shrug and she leans her head back down in my neck.

"I'll teach you," she tells me and I smile at the thought of learning how to drive again. At least the teacher will be more beautiful since my father was the last teacher I had. Although, I can't imagine learning anything—she's kind of a distraction, but a beautiful distraction.

All these thoughts suddenly made me realize, I'm ready to go back to Ohio.

* * *

><p><strong>lacksubstance . tumblr . com<strong>


	6. Chapter Six

__**I'm going to be quick because I have to be at work in a half hour, but I just want to thank you all for the reviews so much. I appreciate them and I'm sorry things are a little confusing. I hope I clear up any small amount of confusion you have in this chapter. Like I said it is time jumped to a month and imagine spending every day with someone for a month, wouldn't you grow really close to someone like that too? Anyway, please review again and I'll get the next chapter done soon. Expect more humor and more writing, and maybe even a little fluff? Yeah bet I got you to stay at fluff, right? Anyway, again enjoy! :) - Sam  
><strong>

_Chapter Six._

**x.**

To imagine I'd be with Santana on my way to Ohio a month ago, I'd tell you there was no way. I know I silently hoped since the moment we met that something like this would transpire, however I thought we'd be dating before we met each other's family. Wishful thinking perhaps, but even as friends it should be no different, right? Although, I've never been this connected with someone who's just my friend. Don't get me wrong, I love how close we've become over the course, regardless of how quickly it seemed to have happened. But I guess when you spend every free time you have with each other pretty much, it's only natural to grow that close. Besides, I cuddle with Brittany when we are alone, so it's no different.

Sure brushing it off to the side like there's nothing there seems to be the easiest thing for me and as I sit in the rental car that we've picked up after landing in Columbus, I can't seem to tear my thoughts away of how much things have progressed. Maybe our friendship has grown far too quickly, but sometimes that happens when you feel like they've been there your entire life. With Santana, I've never felt so safe and open in my life. She doesn't judge me for anything and she pushes me out of my element, something Brittany and my parents neglect, but I don't blame them for that.

I sigh contently watching as we travel on the highway to the small town of Lima. I can't believe I'm going back home after so long. I'm sure nothing's changed; Lima is one of those towns that doesn't. I don't even know what to expect when I get there, especially walking into my parents' house with Santana carrying our bags (because I know she won't let me) and when my mother's eyes land on her, she'll assume something or hope anyway.

I bring my attention over to Santana in the driver's side. She's concentrating on the road, while she licks her lips subconsciously. After our moment in the airport back in New York we haven't talked about my past since and I'm thankful for that. I know there isn't much to say anyway. It's not like I can go back in time and change any of it, and I know she doesn't expect me to. I think she just expects it not to define me since that seems to have been the case from the beginning. I guess that's why I want to make the effort.

We drive past the mile counter—_Lima: 13 miles_. We're close and I can already smell the faint scent of cow dunk and hay. I smelt like that pretty much my entire childhood until I discovered the lovely inventions called deodorant and body spray.

My stomach twists in knots mostly because my parents are positively unaware that I'm even showing up—and with someone else no less. I don't even know what to expect when I get there, not even just at home, but stepping foot in the town—in McKinley since I know I want to show Santana everywhere I grew up. One thing is for sure, I'm definitely taking Santana to Breadstix—I think she'd love it almost as much as Brittany and I did when we lived there.

We turn off the exit ninety three and I can only look out my window now. There's so many things left unanswered here. I never really realized just how much I was leaving behind. I don't plan on dropping my job to move back or anything if all goes well, but the realization never felt so bittersweet. To think I needed Santana to push me makes me wonder what I'm even really good for. I clearly can't make my own right decisions—my past proves that, does it not?

"Stop thinking," I turn my attention to Santana. She's staring straight ahead at the long strip of highway we still have left to travel on. She glances back at me and nods reassuringly.

I blink a few times. "How did—,"

"I know you. Stop overthinking things—you're going to panic. It won't be so bad. Half the people you used to go to school with are probably not as successful as you and hell half of them are probably not even here anymore," she tries to reason and maybe she's right. Unfortunately, the people I went to school with aren't exactly who I'm concerned about.

But in reality, I'm not even sure _what_ I'm so concerned about.

**x. **

We pull up the dirt road, the car bouncing from side to side as we hit rocks of all shapes and sizes. My heart rate has increased, and I believe it's actually not panic like I anticipated it'd be, but excitement. I get to see my parents again after so long and I actually get to surprise them.

Santana parks the car off to the side and the front door instantly opens. I can see the radiant glow of my mother's blonde hair off the sun. She's squinting in confusion as Santana gets out as do I. When she spots me, she instantaneously takes the short set of steps down and runs up to me, burying me in a bone crushing hug.

"Oh okay Mom," I struggle in her firm grasp. I laugh slightly, placing my hands on her back to return the hug. I turn my head to see Santana distracted with the trunk as she pulls the suitcases out of it, shutting it. Our eyes lock and she smiles small at mine and my mother's embrace. I grimace at her, before mouthing _thank you_ to her. Her smile grows a few centimeters as she walks around us with the bags held firmly in her hands.

"How about you let a man carry those bags," I hear my father's hearty tone acknowledge her existence, which breaks my mother's embrace with me. She flips her head to her direction then back at me, eyes wide. Her hazel eyes are shining and I know exactly what she's thinking, but I'm not going to confirm nor deny because she's not asking anything.

"Dear don't be stupid," she shushes him and I giggle, knowing he's the farthest from sexist. Santana is being crowded around my parents and if she was nervous, she certainly didn't show it. She just laughs gently at their interaction. "My dear, you are stunning. Quinnie here hasn't told us a thing about you, but she never does when she's in relationships. She must think I'll embarrass her about asking you things like when the wedding is or if you're having enough sex," she brushes off and my eyes widen. My cheeks grow as steaming hot as a furnace.

"Mother!" I shriek and Santana makes eye contact with me for a moment, but laughs at her words. My mom waves her hand off like it was her own embarrassment being caused.

"Well Mrs. Fabray, I appreciate your kind words, but maybe for Quinn's sake we should keep the rest on the down low," she replies to her and leans forward to my mother's side. "I'll tell you all the details later," she whispers, but it's loud enough for me to hear. My mother giggles and grabs hold of Santana's arm to keep her balance as Santana breaks into a wider grin.

"Oh Quinn she's lovely," she catches her breath then turns back to Santana swatting her arm slightly. "But please call me Judy," she adds firmly and Santana nods, saluting the best to her ability, before escorting Santana inside around my father.

I walk up to him as we stare at the two women heading inside, before I feel him wrap his arm around me, pulling me close to his body. He leans down and places a kiss on top of my head. "I'm so glad you're here baby girl," he tells me softly and I know he means it—he always does.

"Yeah, me too Daddy," I say with a smile before walking upstairs into the house.

We walk up together with our arms wrapped securely around each other only to see my mother giving Santana a tour of the house that I grew up in. The aroma of the foods that are being cooked in the house make me forget that it ever smelled awful outside and when my father would come back in after taking care of the animals, he smelled just as bad as they did.

"Santana, I'll show you your room," I hear my mother speak and escort her up the stairs. I watch where they're walking curiously, knowing we have three bedrooms, one of them being my parents, my old bedroom and Fran's.

When I don't see them turn down the hall to Fran's, my eyes widen in realization. "Uh Mom, that's my room," I call to her and Santana emerges from the room, walking down the stairs to where I'm standing at the bottom step.

"She wants us to share a room. Apparently your sister is coming with her husband and kid," she walks around me to pop the linen closet open. I'm guessing my mother is making Santana do household chores now too. I need to talk to her about that—she's a guest for crying out loud.

"Besides," I hear her voice fairly close. Her breath against my ear, her free arm wraps around my waist tugging me close to her body. "We can finally have a sleepover," she adds with minor excitement as I look up to see my mom waiting up at the top of the stairs. I imagine from the scene that is being displayed she is hoping that Santana will be her future daughter in law. I sigh deeply, before nodding. I turn my head to look Santana in the eye, quirking an eyebrow.

"I don't know what you're planning Miss. Lopez, but if you don't keep your hands at your sides, I will have to do something about it," I jest, grabbing the linens from her grasp to ascend up the stairs towards my mother. She's already made her way into the room and it gives me a chance to look back at Santana. She's firmly in place where I left her with a smirk on her face. I return it, flipping my hair at her before making my way inside with my mother.

**x.**

The sun ghosts over the farm I used to spend my days living in. I stand at the window watching as it begins to dip behind the patch of woods that lines our land. I'm dressed in comfortable clothes having unpacked everything from my suitcase. I offered to do Santana's, but she insisted she'd do it herself, though she has yet do so.

I look around my bare room with just my old bed. It was the most comfortable bed in the world and I remember having sleepovers with Brittany in it. She usually snores, but even my bed could keep that noise at bay. The fact that the next time I'll be in this bed in just a few hours with someone I actually want to be in bed with—in more than one way, is slightly unnerving. She's been incredibly clingy since we've arrived. I don't know if she is trying to keep up an act to appease my mother, but I'm never one to lead my parents on when it comes to something as personal my love life.

I sigh as I hear heavy chatter downstairs and the closing of the front door, which means Fran and her husband David, arrived, along with my nephew Jerren. He's about two years old now and I haven't seen him before. I close my eyes at the thought. I never made it for my own nephew's birth—my only sister's first child. How does that make me look? Like the biggest bitch in the world. I'm probably making matters worse hiding up here, so it's best to return downstairs.

I shuffle in my socks down the stairs towards the kitchen to see Fran chatting away with my mother as she checks on some of the food. I lean against the doorframe as David comes up behind me with a big smile.

"Well long time no see sister in law," he says cheerfully, leaning forward to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I smile in return because it's hard not to around the guy. He's really good for my sister and he's probably the best brother in law I could ask for.

"Yeah I know what you mean," I agree and he looks over in a different direction. His blue eyes sparkling against the kitchen lights, his dark brown hair giving off a slight glow. I turn my attention to where he's looking and I find myself growing a grin when I see Santana playing with Jerren in the living room. He's walking and handing her his plastic blocks. She's smiling large and thanking him, helping him build a little castle. I find my heart growing just a bit larger at the sight and it makes me tear up because in reality—in my reality we probably won't have that. She doesn't want me like that, otherwise she would have taken the next step. She's the one that can read me better than anyone else—can't she see I want her?

"Quinn!" I snap out of my daze and turn my attention to my sister. She has a huge smile plastered on her face and she walks over quickly, pulling me into her arms. I accept the heartfelt embrace—she's as beautiful as she was five years ago and I envy that. How is it possible that I like the way I look, but still be envious of my big sister?

"I missed you. You have to tell me all about New York. I bet you're a big shot business honcho, huh?" She says pulling away to grab a glass of wine to sip. The thing that never makes sense to me is she's always been proud of me. Of everything I've accomplished or that she knew I'd accomplish. When I lost all my weight, she was proud because it made me happy. When I became head cheerleader, she was proud of me because it'd make me happy. When I gave birth, she was proud of me because she knew it made me happy to see her take her first breath, to get a chance to hold her. Everything I did, she was proud of, no matter the negatives.

I envied her my entire life and yet I see her married with a son, living in Ohio still—and I have everything I ever wanted, yet I still envy her. Maybe that's the point I guess, no matter what I do, it'll never be enough for me. She has the family and maybe that's what is missing.

"Yeah I—uh I'm head of advertising. I got promoted a little while back," I tell her and my mother snaps her head in my direction with a big smile. Fran shakes her head, holding her glass up to me.

"I knew you would take that city by storm. My sister is always a firecracker," she says and I breathe an unsteady breath.

"That's amazing sweetie. We're so proud of you," my mom chimes in, kissing my forehead before running off to look for David and my father, who seemed to slip out of the room.

I look over to see Santana still playing with Jerren, but it looks as if they had to start over because every time the structure got too high, Jerren would just tear it apart. I giggle as it happens and Santana just falls over on her back letting out an exasperated sigh. Jerren laughs loudly before climbing on top of her.

I feel Fran wrap her arm around me and lay her chin on my shoulder. "She's wonderful Quinn," she whispers to me and I nod distantly. "How long have you two been together? Mother and Father haven't mentioned you were dating anyone," she asks and I sigh deeply, knowing Santana wanted to keep up an act of some sort, at least it felt that way, but this is my family—I cannot lie to them.

"That's because we're not together," I respond regrettably because it hurts to truly speak those words. She's trying to fight for eye contact, but I just can't give it to her. Fran was always able to read me almost as well as Santana could.

"But you want to be," she speaks and I sigh deeply, giving in to her silent demand. I look at her hazel eyes—they mirror my own and anyone could tell we're related.

"More than anything," I confess quietly and she smiles small.

"What's stopping you?" She asks with a slight tug. To be honest, I really can't answer that. I wish was easier as saying that she already had someone, but I knew better. Santana's never mentioned dating anyone and if that was the case, the relationship was either strained or long distance because she spends majority of her time with me or teaching at the university. The reality is, it won't work because this is me. I'm not meant to have someone like her—if I was, I'd already have her. I'm not with her because like she said in the airport; I'm that scared little girl I was back in Lima and even now, as I stand in the place with the rottenness exposed—I'm still that same girl and I hate that.

I turn back to her and shrug her off my shoulder. "Rejection," I mutter before walking out the back porch to take a seat.

Rejection is probably the best way to describe how I feel. I worry about it constantly and I can move on from other types, but if Santana rejected me—I don't know if I could get passed that. It'd change everything and I can't risk that. She's the best thing in my life and if I spill out everything I feel for her and it's not returned, I don't think our friendship would survive.

I sit down on the top step with my knees barely reaching my chin. The sunset as turned the sky a navy blue and I can hear the cows mooing in the distance. I sigh deeply, not realizing just how overwhelming all of this would be with Santana around. They assume I'm getting married to her or something, and it makes matters ten times worse because they adore her. While it's great for them to like her—it makes the trip more bearable, it's just becoming too much.

The screen door pops open and closes. I hear footsteps against the wood porch as I turn around and see Santana taking a seat next to me. She lets out a huff and a slight groan as she does so, before placing her arms on her knees.

"Your nephew is a burst of energy," she comments and I nod slowly.

"I wouldn't know," I reply, gulping at how terrible that sounds. "That's the first time I'm seeing him," I add, turning my head to face her. She gives me grimace look, not nodding nor responding with words. I imagine there isn't much to say—I know she's probably thinking about how bad that is too.

"Maybe you can change that. I saw you with your sister—she loves you and misses you. When you walked out she told me that she wished you weren't so closed off. I guess she's concerned," she exclaims and what can I say to that. My sister misses me, I get that, but the phone and planes work both ways. She can visit me in New York if she wanted to and while I never took the opportunity to come here before, I came now and okay, I know I'm closed off and it is my own fault.

"Well it is what it is," I grumble and I can hear Santana sigh deeply. She's probably upset, but I can't make it go away.

"Make them proud of you Quinn," she finally says after a brief moment and I look over at her, shaking my head slightly.

"They already are! That's the point," I seethe, though I'm not sure why it is bothering me so much that they are proud after everything I've done. I stand up and walk down the steps, crossing our land as Santana's frantic footsteps come up behind me. She grabs my wrist and turns me around non-forcefully.

"If you can't talk to them, talk to me," she whispers softly, running her thumb under my left eye. When I started crying, I don't know, but Santana's always been able to take care of me somehow.

I exhale a deep breath. "I can't remember one time where they were disappointed in me. Even when I got pregnant we pushed through it. They weren't proud, but they weren't angry either," I begin and Santana shakes her shoulders in confusion.

"Did you want them to be angry? And hell maybe they were disappointed, but that was when you were sixteen Quinn, they forgot all about it because in all actuality maybe they're trying to move forward. We all have things that cause disappointment for our parents, but we move forward and change it. I wouldn't want them to hold a grudge against you, would you?" She reasons and I suppose I don't, but I just don't remember them ever being furious when it happened. Why can't my accomplishments reach my expectations, when I've already reached their own?

"Is there something else?" She asks when I don't respond by words, but just nodding and shaking my head, knowing she's right about it all.

"I still envy her," I breath out, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand. I laugh slightly at how stupid I must look and how stupid I feel. "I want the family. I want the person that I love," I add and I look up at her. I can see how her eyes look at me with such sympathy, but she doesn't respond right away, instead she just wraps me up in her arms and lets me lose myself in everything she is.

"You'll get all of that," she says softly and I place my hands around her lower back, burying my head into her chest.

"What if she doesn't love me back?" I question into her warm sweatshirt. I feel her rubbing her hand up and down my back. It sends light shivers down my spine, but brings me a warmth of comfort I desperately needed right now.

"You never know till you try," I hear her respond into my hair and she places a kiss on top of my head.

_That alone gave me hope and courage to finally do what I've been so afraid to do._


	7. Chapter Seven

__**It is finally complete. Thank you all so much for the amazing feedback. I know it was long awaiting, but I hope it's worth it. With work things get sort of hectic and I'm expecting next week for me to be no different, but please just hang in there and you'll get your new chapter as soon as possible. Also, this next chapter will be the last chapter they're in Ohio because I think it's time to go back to reality and we both know Thanksgiving breaks only last about three days (well if you live in the US, you'd know that). Anyway, with that said, thank you all so very much. I love you all from the heart of my bottom ;) so please review again and let me know what you think. **

_Chapter Seven._

**x.**

The sun shined brightly through my old bedroom and it reminds me exactly why I never got more than the required hours of sleep. The way the house is position, it's me who gets the morning sun, but I'd rather get that than the afternoon—that's all Fran. I groan as I get ready to turn over only to feel the warm body next to me. I open my eyes and see Santana hugging me close to her in her sleep. My head is on her chest and I can feel her heart beating intensely against my ear. I smile up at her and just the way her arms are so securely fastened around me, like as if she doesn't want me to go anywhere brings a warm feeling in my heart.

I sigh contently, wanting to milk this moment for everything it's worth. We've never slept like this before, in fact we've never slept in the same bed, let alone the same vicinity—we just never had a reason to. I bury myself further into her, wrapping my arms entirely around her. She shifts in her sleep, letting out a deep sigh, before pulling me even closer, placing her head over mine.

_I could get use to this._

**x.**

I step downstairs after getting dressed. I laid with Santana for a lot longer than I should have, but I didn't care and she didn't seem to either since she got us into that situation. Waking up like that put me in an exceptionally good mood that my mother and sister would notice instantly.

As I walk into the kitchen, I see Fran feeding Jerren and my mother making breakfast. They're chatting amongst themselves that when I walked in they didn't even notice me right away. It's okay though, I don't expect them to nor do I care right now. Nothing can break me out of this mood.

"Good morning family," I say with a chipper tone and a smile, popping the fridge door open to pull out the orange juice.

Fran looks on amused and slightly curious. "Morning—someone seems to be in a good mood," she comments and I can only quirk an eyebrow as I lift a glass full of juice to my lips.

"It would appear so, although honey I don't condone sexual relations under my roof," my mother chimes and I cough into my juice, having it gone down the wrong pipe.

I cough a few times before composing myself. "We're not together like that," I finally break to her because I can just feel her heart crumbling at the seams.

She waves her hand. "Oh honey, I know that. Santana's told me, however that doesn't mean I don't want you two to be," she says as she chops up tomatoes to place in an omelet. I smile slightly, before taking another sip of my juice.

"Well it might happen," I whisper to myself, before walking over to Jerren with a big smile. "And you handsome little man, I don't think we've been properly introduced," he stares at me with his big blue eyes—definitely David's, before giggling as I poke his belly. "I'm your Aunt Quinn," I add, grabbing his little hand and shaking it like it's a business deal.

"Also known as Quinnie if you want to piss her off," Fran adds winking to her son as she continues to feed him. I look over at her not amused one bit before walking away from them.

"So it might happen huh?" My mother brings up and my eyes widen slightly that she even heard me. I look over at her as she raises her eyebrows curiously. I exchange a look with Fran who looks just as curious as my mother does and I can just shrug. "Well are you going to ask her out?" She pries and I sigh deeply.

"Yes possibly, but I don't know when. I just have to give myself enough courage to do so," I finally reason with them and they exchange a look that I'm not sure what it's supposed to say, but I don't know if I should even question it.

"Honey, you need to do the chores outside. Your father and David went on a run, so do you think you can just take care of the little things?" My mother asks me since I always helped my father when I was younger. They had dreams that I'd take over this farm, but living in New York and having this place would be too much. I'd leave it to Fran—at least she's still in the state.

I nod, finishing off my glass, when I hear clacking. I scrunch up my brow when it gets louder and when I turn my head I am met with the sight of a lifetime. Santana is dressed in a plaid shirt tied up just above her navel and short jean shorts, to top it off with cowboy boots and a cowboy hat. I turn to my sister with my eyes wider than saucers—I'm sure of it. She looks at me amused, capturing her bottom lip between her teeth to refrain from laughing.

"I'm ready to work on the farm," Santana says, placing her hands on her hips with a proud smile. I look over at my mother, who is mirroring my expression, before I quickly turn my attention back to Santana.

"Dressed like that?" My mother finally says what I've been thinking. Santana nods frantically and I gulp at the thought of being even centimeters from Santana working on the farm dressed the way she's dressed.

"Honey last time I saw a female dressed like that on this farm was when Fran wanted our stable boy," she replies and I laugh bringing my attention to my sister. She holds her hands up shrugging to mom and I.

"What? It worked though—I married the guy," she exclaims and she's right. David was the boy that'd help us on the farm when the months got incredibly busy and every time Fran would be off for summer in college, she'd see him working and would constantly talk about him until finally she set a plan in motion. He asked her out and the rest is history.

"So none of you dress like this on a daily basis when working on the farm?" Santana asks confused.

"Yes—if we were making a porno," I reply and she mocks me, making me smirk at her. "Anyway, it's fine—but we have to go out there now before breakfast if you really want to go to work. I'll show you how to milk the cows, grab the eggs and such," I add turning the attention away from Santana's get up. I turn back to the rest of my family as I guide Santana out the door. I look on at them like death is about to take me because it's exactly how I feel. Had Santana just dressed in her usual attire I would've been fine, but you know what? It's okay—it's okay because she is probably doing this on purpose, you know—to get me to make a move or something; yeah that's probably it.

We walk down to the barn and I see the horses lined up in the stable, but we are running low on hay. I turn around and nearly run into Santana. She grabs hold of my shoulders and I feel skin, but I'm not sure where I'm touching. I'm too busy looking into her breas—eyes to notice. She clears her throat and I look down and find that I'm in fact touching those taunt abs.

"Oh shit," I curse under my breath, pulling my hand away like they just burnt me and they might as well have with the way they look.

I walk around her quickly and find my father's truck in the driveway. He must've just gotten home with David and there are in fact barrels of hay in the back. I sigh as Santana comes up next to me. "I guess this is a good time to learn how to drive a stick huh?" She comments and I close my eyes. The thought of being in an enclosed area with her dressed like that makes my stomach hurt, but I got to get over this feeling because what if we do end up dating and it still feels like that? I can never be around her.

She walks up to the truck as I follow close behind, before running up the stairs to grab the keys. I hear the chattering in the kitchen—they probably won't notice what we're doing anyway. I walk back outside and Santana's leaning against the passenger door and though my family is religious, I'm not, but I'm actually praying to God that he just gives me the strength to remain composed around her.

I open the cab and she hops in next to me and I turn on the engine. I wait for her to get her seatbelt on as I turn off that terrible country station that my dad loves so much.

"Okay you ready?" She asks and I just nod, knowing I'm as ready as I'll ever be. "Great, now grab my stick," she instructs and my breath catches in my throat, feeling my body grow hot at her words. God you're not helping me out here!

She sighs, grabbing my hand and placing it on the stick shift before removing her hand away. "Now place it in reverse," she says and I do as I'm told, before backing out just enough to round the back. "Place it in first gear," she tells me and I do before she tells me to switch it to second and third after. I smile at myself as I drive it out to the back as she informs me to keep switching gears at a certain point, otherwise I'll blow the engine and God forbid if I do that, my dad will be really upset.

As we get to the barn I go to kick it back into first to slow it down with the break, but it doesn't budge and my eyes widen. "Uh Santana," I say fearfully and Santana looks over at me with inquisitive eyes.

"Quinn now would be a good time to place it in first gear," she says and I bang my hand on the shift.

"I know! I'm trying, but it's stuck!" I panic as I keep turning the wheel to avoid any animals and buildings. Santana curses under her breath, pulling her seatbelt off to tug on the shift. She groans as it doesn't budge for her.

"Get up," I turn my head to her with my eyes large.

"Are you crazy? I'm keeping this thing from hitting anything," I reply as she rolls her eyes, slightly amused by my freak out which I do not appreciate. She suddenly gets up from where she's sitting and hops over the shift. "Oh my God! Santana, what are you doing?" I shriek as she sits down on my lap and all I can think about is if I was a boy this would be even more awkward than it already is—just saying.

She grabs the wheel and replaces my feet with her own on the peddles then grabs hold of the shift, easily placing it back into first. She turns it around and backs it up to the barn so we can unload the barrels of hay, then parks it.

She turns off the engine and I sigh happily that the nightmare is over. I place my head back against the seat, breathing heavily. I open my eyes slightly and see Santana staring at me with half lidded eyes almost as if she was trying to figure something out.

"I guess I'm not meant to drive this truck," I grumble and she smiles slightly.

"If it makes you feel any better—I crashed the first time I drove one," she confesses and I begin to giggle at the thought because I have this image that she's absolutely perfect and does no wrong, so the idea of her not living up to that epitome is somewhat relieving. "I see it helped," she adds and I nod, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. I lingered longer than I should have, but I can feel Santana's breathing become irregular at the mere contact. It was a small gesture and I know that's how I feel when I'm around her period, so maybe there's hope.

I pull away and she smiles softly. "Let's get these chores done, huh? These clothes are rubbing me the wrong way," she says, tugging on her shirt making her breasts move with each tug she gives. I laugh as she hops out of the driver's side, before I follow in suit.

**x.**

That night we're walking the strip of downtown Lima. Privately owned stores line both sides while cars move down the small roads. This day has been pretty uneventful though. We managed to get the chores done that were needed and had the big breakfast my mother prepared for us. That afternoon, I showed Santana around the town and showed her McKinley—tomorrow we'll be able to go in, but for now we could only walk around. Every other business was closed down for the holiday, except for the some local bars that remained opened all year round; something about everyone could use a drink any time of the year.

"And this is Old Dogs—it's nothing special, but they allow underage people to come in to do karaoke," I tell her as Santana takes in the establishment. It was slightly busier than I expected it'd be as I hear the loud chatter and echoes of laughter from drunken men and women. The faint sound of someone attempting to sing rings distinctively in my ear and I can only smirk—people can be highly brave.

I begin to stroll again, but Santana grasps my wrist and tugs me into the bar. I haven't been in here in so long and the last time I was, was when I decided to sing on a dare. I look around and feel immediately shaken at the thought. My eyes land on the stage and I gulp, remembering the last time I took that stage how nerve-wracking it was and how I got so terrified that I nearly ran off the stage, then _she_ built up my confidence and I sung my heart out.

"Quinn!" I turn my head quickly and spot Brittany with a beer in hand, running over to me in shock. She pulls me into a bone crushing hug. "Holy shit, I thought it was you, but since I just got here, I knew there was no way it was the alcohol," she adds with a slight grumble. I can tell she's a little buzzed, so just getting here could mean a half hour to me, but an hour for her.

"Yeah I kind of got dragged here," I say looking over at Santana, bumping her slightly with my hip. She busts out in a wide grin and when I turn back to Brittany, her blue eyes are wider than I've ever seen them.

"Oh this is the famous Santana Lopez I have been hearing about?" Brittany cocks her head to the side, crossing her arms over her chest, holding her beer bottle by the neck. She taps her foot, eyeing me curiously. I mean she's known about her for as long as I've known her, but has yet to meet her. Maybe I was just afraid she'll say something to embarrass me or that if Santana met too many people close to me, it'd become too—real? I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.

"Yes and you must be Brittany. I hear a lot about you as well—all your drunken adventures and your many suitors," Santana charms, quirking her manicured eyebrow at my friend. Brittany bites her bottom lip gently taking in Santana's smirk and I can only look on with curiosity. Their staring contest lasts longer than I anticipated, before Brittany starts laughing. She leans forward and pushes Santana's arm.

"I like her—she's awesome for you Quinn," Brittany finally responds and tilts back her beer. Santana and I look on with confusion, before she turns on her heel to go back to the bar. I watch her retreating figure and take notice of her sliding on the barstool and the bartender coming to her aid behind the counter. I gulp instantly and look away.

"This was a bad idea," I mumble as I'm about to walk away—fast enough for Santana to even register. I want to get out of here and away from this place as fast I can.

"Q! Q. Fabray? Baby Mama!" My legs go still and I slowly turn around to the guy with the same chiseled facial features, the same Mohawk, those same dark eyes. My breathing has gone irregular and all I can do is stand still. I just want to run and never look back because he's always had this effect on me ever since Beth and I want it to be over. I thought moving far away and never looking back would help. I thought coming back after five years it wouldn't hurt so bad, but it hasn't—none of it has.

I feel warm fingers lace with mine and I look down to see tan and pale mixed—_as it should be_. I find my lungs producing the oxygen at the right pace again, when I move forward towards him; Santana with me the entire way. I near closer to the bar and I see his flashy smile. He hasn't changed in the five years and I can honestly say I didn't expect him to.

"What's up? And who is this fine piece of Latina ass?" He says and I clench my jaw at the way he directed his attention to Santana.

"This fine piece of Latina ass isn't your concern," she retorts. "Not interested in her sloppy seconds," she adds pointing her pointer finger from her unoccupied hand at him.

He chuckles lowly, folding his arms on the bar top. "Didn't you hear baby? I wasn't sloppy with her otherwise I wouldn't have knocked her up. Ain't that right Q?" He replies looking over at me, giving me a nod and a wink.

I feel Santana's grip tighten around my hand and I wince at the pressure, only to have it released soon after, when I feel her lunge forward grabbing hold of his collar. "Say it again. I dare you," she seethes as my heart races. Her quick actions caused me to nearly jump out of my skin. He looks over at her with his lips pursed out, before he looks back at me with his eye brow cocked.

"Quinn can you get her to heel, you know I was kidding," he laughs softly and as much as I want Santana to punch him in the face for every ounce of rage and aggression I still hold for him, I know I can't and that it won't solve anything—plus this is how he is and he says things like that, whether he is serious or not.

"It's okay San," I tell her softly, touching her upper arm softly. She's hesitant to let go of him, her jaw still clenched, but she finally lets out a deep sigh and pushes him back in place with his feet on the ground.

She turns on her heel and walks away from him with me close behind. I turn back to him and he's watching us leave with somewhat regret in his eyes. It seems as if we both have some issues and things left unsaid, but if he doesn't try, how can I?

I turn back and leave with Santana, and as we step out the door the cool air hits us like never before. New York wasn't even this cold and having not been back in five years it's pretty much foreign to me. Not only that, but the air is thick between us and I know it's because of what happened between Puck and I. I love the fact that Santana was willing to defend my honor against him, but not letting her do so feels like I put a strain on what was a good day.

"I'm sorry," she breaks the silence and I stop walking which in turn causes her to do the same. "I shouldn't have grabbed him like that, but I just really didn't like how he was disrespecting you," she rambles and I sigh deeply, knowing her apology is sincere, though I don't think it deserves an apology because he's my past.

"I know why you did it and I'm not mad at you for it," I shrug, sniffling at the air forcing my nose to do some wacked out thing. I get her to look up at me, her brown eyes sparkling under the streetlights. She breathes easily and she nods softly. Her rage has been replaced with a sense of calmness. I smile softly at her, running my fingers up the side of her cheek, just under her jaw. Her eyes close almost as if to savor the tender touches I'm offering and I want so badly to lean in, but for the life of me I'm hesitant.

_I just can't. Not yet._

"I appreciate it though," I voice to try to keep the silence from becoming deafening. I move my hand away and place it at my side. Her eyes flutter open and she grins halfheartedly, stuffing her hands in her pockets when I return the small gesture. "Let's get back. I want to show you something," I tell her and she nods. I know she's up for anything and tonight. This night; is a perfect time to show her my sanctuary.

**x.**

The black sky is clear of any cloud blemishes; all that litters the sky is speckles of stars and it's absolutely radiant. We walk behind the house—the only light coming from the back porch light which is dim enough to not interfere with any ounce of the serenity. The cows moo faintly to the moon and the horses should be fast asleep in their stables. I sigh contently walking with Santana in our pajama pants and hoodies to the barn. I felt like _Clark Kent_ in _Smallville_ for having the barn as my place of reason, but I understood why he did. It's a place that's high enough off the ground where you feel like sometimes reality will just swallow you; I'd run here the most as a kid when someone bullied me that day or when I found out about my pregnancy, but it was also the place where I ran to when I got Brittany as my first friend and when I got my acceptance letter to Yale. It had so much significance in my life for all the negatives and positives in my life, and I felt like I needed to share it with her, much like she did that second day we met.

We climb up the latter and climb up to the roof. I take a seat as does she and with a content sigh—I'm finally home. I scan the farm from my place and I never felt safer, regardless of it being practically fifty feet off the ground. I look over at Santana and she's taking in our land as well, never really getting a chance to see it from this perspective and she smiles softly to herself.

"This is beautiful," she says softly and I nod, not taking my eyes off her—_yes you are_. I could stay up here forever with her. I've never shown anyone else this place; no past boyfriends, not even Brittany. My dad made the roof access for me and for a while he used to come up with me, but he got older and things changed. It's okay though, he's a grandfather now—I don't expect him to do things like hop on a barn roof with me just to sit, but it was the most bonding my father and I would do and I cherish every minute of it.

_Now I get to share it with you._ I watch Santana still and lay back on the wood to stare up at the stars, drinking in this moment. I don't need to be wrapped in Santana's arms or need her speaking—I just need her here; her presence is enough for me to die happy.

I hear the wood shift slightly as Santana leans back next to me. Our forms are as close as possible without being on top of each other as one of her arms lay behind her head—her other is buried under my head. I can feel her fingers moving against my scalp and it's a strange sense of calmness. I could literally fall asleep like this.

"I used to come here when the world would become too much and when the world would be extra gentle to me," I speak not taking my eyes off the night sky. "I never took anyone else up here," I confess to her. I hear her take a deep breath, but it doesn't trigger my vision towards her.

"Why did you decide to?" I chance looking over at her and she's staring back at me with curiosity. I breathe deeply her scent and take in everything that's her. My eyes flicker down to those supple lips, then back up to those dark pools I seem to always get lost in.

"Because you're worth it," I whisper to her and it's like as if time stopped. I see her eyes search mine and her body lean forward ever so slowly to close the gap between us. My lips are slightly parted awaiting for her. I'm not imagining this; I know I'm not as I feel my eyes flutter closer. I feel her breath against my lips, sending shivers down my spine and I just want the gap to be closed so desperately. All the fears to wash away that are thick between us and as her lips just barely brush ever so tenderly against mine.

_THUD!_

We jump back, breathing heavily and I look at her eyes, searching for anything that says I was wrong, but I wasn't. She turns away from me, gulping and begins to sit up. I sit up with her and hold myself up with my arms resting behind me. She takes a deep breath and smiles slightly at me, placing her long dark hair behind her ear.

"I'm tired, I think I'm going to head to bed," she says softly, getting up and stepping cautiously on the hinges to the latter. As her hands grasp the sides and her feet sit on the first rail, she looks back at me with a softer smile and clouded eyes. "Thanks for the birthday present," she continues gently and I look on in confusion because this is the last thing I had in mind for a birthday present. I wanted to do something extravagant, so I begin to shake my head, ready to argue.

"But this wasn't—,"

"You were here. You showed me a part of you that you don't show others and that's the best gift I could've asked for," she cuts off and I look away to hide the blush creeping up briefly, before meeting her eyes again. "Goodnight Quinn," she smiles and descends down the latter back to the house.

I sit there for a moment longer to take in the events that just occurred, before a large grin begins to make its way across my lips.

_Sweet dreams Santana. _

And as I sit up on my roof alone with my knees tugged close to my body, I turn to see my bedroom light on. I see Santana's silhouette moving around the room, before my lamp is turned off and I'm left with just the light from the porch. I sigh deeply, then stare back up at the stars.

A shooting star comes rushing across the peaceful sky and I close my eyes tightly to wish. I used to wish for different things throughout my life when I'd see one, and so far, they've all come true. I lick my lips and flutter my eyes open.

A smile begins to form again on my lips as I stand up to head to the latter, so I too can get some sleep. Maybe I'll wake up in my new favorite position—_in your arms_.

As I head back to the house, my feet shuffling in the grass, I let a small smile rest on my lips the entire way. I can still feel the slight brush of her lips—her breath against them almost makes my lips tingle under my fingertips.

_I wish for you._


	8. Chapter Eight

**Hey guys! I'm so sorry for this long wait. I know you guys have been messaging me and telling me I'm taking too long to update, but I work and I have a ton of things going on in my life. It kind of all just sprang on me and I don't really know how to deal with it all, but I'm working on getting on track. I'm hoping to write more words for this story, I know I keep promising longer chapters because that's how they were originally, but for now just hang in there. Things are going to progress more smoothly now and quicker, now that Quinn is figuring things out from her past, she can finally work on her future, now is it going to be with Santana or not? Well that's for you guys to stick around and find out.  
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**Anyway, enough with this note. You guys waited long enough. Here is the next chapter, enjoy and review. Do what you guys do and I'll update as soon as I can.  
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**Thanks, Sam**

_Chapter Eight._

Waking up again the next morning had just a little bit of a different effect as the morning before. This was our last day in Ohio, which means back to the real world, work and remembering this probably will never happen again—like it'll be some distant memory. I sigh comfortably, enjoying it as much as I could till it was over, when I find my hand resting on skin. I open my eyes tiredly to see my hand has coasted its way under the hem of Santana's white shirt.

I flex my fingers over her stomach as reflex and she shivers under the faint touch. I remove it, knowing that I'm probably crossing the line, but after last night, I didn't know where we stood. I wasn't wrong, I know she went to kiss me as I did and yet I feel like we're still in the same place we were before. It makes my heart tug for more; I crave for it so much more now that it hurts.

"Stop thinking," she grumbles into my hair and I breath out a puff of air, craning my body around to look up at her. Her eyes are squinted open, trying to get used to the sunlight ghosting in through the window.

"I can't help it," I stretch from my arms to my toes, letting the blood finally flow through them again. She sighs deeply, turning over on her stomach, facing me as I do the same to watch her carefully. She blinks slowly; her lips jutted out but shut ever so firmly as if she's pouting.

"It's early," she finally confirms and it makes me turn my gaze away from her adorable face to check my phone. She was right though, it was early, but not any earlier than when I get up for work, in fact it's later, but I guess that's what happens when you're used to getting up at six every morning to take care of farm animals.

I turn back to her after placing my phone back on the night table, placing my arms under my pillow to keep it elevated enough. She yawns quietly, closing her eyes for a moment. "You can sleep longer if you'd like," I tell her, running my hand over the pieces of hair that fell lazily over her face.

"I'll probably go help my dad with the work outside before breakfast," I let her know, turning over on my back to stretch a little more, feeling just a little tense. I shut my eyes tightly then I feel arms trapping me to the bed and a head on my chest. I open my eyes to see Santana cuddling me—if only she'd realize just how much effect that mere action as on me.

"Don't go," she mumbles, burying herself further into my neck and I giggle at her clinginess. I never realized how dependent she gets when she's tired. Maybe that's what last night was all about. She did leave after whatever hell that thud was, so maybe her actions were because of just that—she was tired, so she felt attached to me.

I groan at the thought because that's not what I want in the least bit. I do however think I'm going to enjoy this side of her just a little bit longer, so I give in to her whiny demand and stay put. I wrap my arms around her further and let her snuggle into my body until she falls right back to sleep, leaving me in an elated abyss for the moment.

**x.**

I carry a barrel of hay one at a time towards the barn. My tank already sticky with sweat and dirt as the pieces of straw dig their way into my glove covered palms. I wince slightly, knowing I'm so out of shape having not done this in years. It makes me wonder how I could've ever gotten overweight when there was so much hard labor around in my own backyard. I lacked the motivation I suppose to take advantage of it.

I toss it in the stable with my horse in it. She is as beautiful as I remembered she was five years ago. Her white coat still shined like it did when we first got her. She still had that same young face, with a few dark specks around her nose. I suppose old age is getting the best of her though. My dad told me she isn't well enough to ride anymore and that makes me a little sad because I loved more than anything to ride her around the property.

"There ya go Cheerio," I was in middle school when we got her and Fran was head of the Cheerios; something I aspired to be when I stepped into McKinley and needless to say, my horse got the crappy end of the stick when I decided to name her after a cereal brand.

I pet her mane, before turning around and noticing the bucket we place in her stable cracked down the side. I look in confusion, glancing between her and the broken bucket wondering if that may have been the thud we heard last night. Did she kick the bucket? Whoa bad statement. "Sorry Cheerio," I mumble to her as if she heard my thought.

I sigh taking a seat on the piled high barrels that my dad and David brought in yesterday to think. Cheerio, next to Brittany has always been my best friend. She's a horse, but she knew how to just be there to listen and there were times where I'd believe she'd somehow know what I was saying and just acknowledge it.

When I found out I was pregnant, I took her out to just think and escape the outside world; the disappointment that'd await me at home. I went into the woods with her and finally took a seat down on this boulder; she came up to me and nudged me as if she knew something was wrong—to tell me to vent. I know it sounds stupid, but even Brittany didn't know about it yet and I just wasn't ready for her to know, so I vented to my horse. Yeah ridiculous to most, but not to me.

I wonder if her kicking that bucket is a sign to tell me that something isn't right. She likes Santana; I know she does because of when we worked on the farm yesterday, she fed her more than I or Dad usually do and Cheerio was in heaven. I can't imagine her not liking her after that. Maybe it wasn't the right time to start anything. We didn't kiss, we haven't talked about it and we probably never will. Maybe Ohio isn't the place to start something because once we go back to New York we'd have to figure it out all over again.

"So I should wait till we go back to New York, Cheer?" I ask her quietly, resting my chin on my palm. I watch her munch on her hay quietly, when she finally makes a huff sound. I usually take that as a yes, so I nod slowly, getting up from my spot. I walk over to her and kiss the side of her head. "You are a smelly old bat, but you'll always be my best friend. Eat up my dear," I pat her and walk out of the barn and hopefully get a chance to step into the shower in time for breakfast. I have a day of sightseeing planned for Santana.

**x.**

My shoes squeak against the tile of the vacant building. Banners and posters hang in every visible place that was possible. The glass shined brightly against the dim sunlight of the offices that I knew very well.

The place hasn't changed at all.

It still smells of sweaty football players and mixes of fruity flavors from the daily slushies that were issued out. I sigh, tugging my jacket closer as we walk around the building. It's like a distant memory that I was even here for four years; that I endured so much while I walked these halls. From being the most popular girl in school, to being at the bottom, to rising to the top again, only pull myself into oblivion, to only be pulled back by the one person that always could—the person I tormented for so long.

"Q," I stop my stroll when I turn to see Santana has stopped at a glass case. I walk over to where she stood and there was our Nationals trophy. A picture sat in the case and I stood front and center with the Cheerios, showing off my proud victorious smile. I look on still proud of this accomplishment, but nothing prepared me for my true proudest moment. "You really were head of command, huh?" She asks with a smile and I breath out a laugh, nodding.

"You looked beaut—um happy there," she says and I just shrug, giving her a tight lipped smile. I was happy—it was my first Nationals Championship with the team, but knowing what I know now, the Cheerios won't always be there for you. I may be independent now, but I realize that wasn't my case five years ago. I depended on my looks and others judgments of me; I depended on others for guidance and just being there. I never had that attitude that I didn't need anyone till I graduated.

"I'll show you one of my proudest moments here," I gesture for her to follow me to the room I spent most of my time in after I got kicked off the Cheerios. I pop the door open and the chairs still lined up on each row—_twelve chairs, twelve members_. I smile at them, before walking fully in and heading to the trophy case. Santana stuffs her hands in her pockets, looking at the Nationals trophy inside.

"2012 National Glee Champions "New Directions"," she reads the engraving, then takes in our first picture together as a team; my baby bump easily visible in the shot, to us at Nationals holding our trophy up for what felt like the world to see. Her eyes scan the entire case and she finally looks back to me with a warm smile.

"You look—I'm at a loss of words," I look away for a moment, shaking the feeling of the judgment away, even if I know she's not giving me any.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, you may think that high school was terrible, you know with your pregnancy, your accident, failed relationships, but you know what? You got some positives out of all of that," I look up at her as she explains, walking over to sit down in one of the chairs. She gestures for me to sit down next to her and I do so.

"You got a beautiful baby out of it. You gave a woman that couldn't have children again another chance of being a mom, and when you're ready you'll be a great mother. When I see your cheerleading picture next to your glee one, I see true happiness in glee. It's obvious you loved them both, but if I learned anything from high school, it's that people who you thought were there for you aren't always when you need them most. When you got pregnant, you got kicked out of your squad, were any of those other girls there for you?" She asks and I shook my head quietly.

"Just Britt," I mumble and Santana nods slowly, taking my hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

"Then you know who your real friends are. And hell, your accident taught you that when faced with the chance of never walking again, you're a fucking badass fighter!" She begins to speak passionately and I can only laugh slightly at her words. Suddenly I'm feeling the weight being lifted just a little higher and I can breathe here again.

"You deserve to have this happiness again Quinn," she says pointing to the picture of my senior year at Nationals. "And you'll get it, when you stop letting the negatives here be negatives," she encourages and she's right.

And I think I'm beginning to.

We fall into a comfortable silence when the piano catches my eye. So many memories of that piano comes rushing through my mind, all the performances that were brought to light with that instrument, all the performances that were done in front of it. It held so much significance in my high school career that that alone brought a smile to my face.

I stand up and walk over to it, pulling the cover up from the keys, running my fingertips over them gently. I feel Santana's presence lingering on my every move as she walks over to me and takes a seat. She clears her throat and pats the spot next to her and begins to play a few bars from a song I am not familiar with. My eyes shoot up as she concentrates on the keys, moving her head with the smooth rhythm. Her eyes close as if the song fuels within her; taking her every being hostage; then she sings:

_Set me free_

_Leave me be_

_I don't wanna fall another moment into your gravity_

_Here I am_

_And I stand, so tall_

_Just the way I'm supposed be_

_But you're on to me_

_All over me._

Her voice sounds so smooth—so angelic and all I can do is listen and embrace this side of her. I wasn't even aware she could sing. I suppose I should have known since she can practically do anything. Her tone rises as her playing still takes my breath away. Why she picked this song, I will probably never know. Is she trying to tell me something? Is she trying to trigger something in my mindset that I'm missing?

Then I think about it all. How seeing Puck again made me feel. I felt broken; I felt like he kicked me in the stomach repeatedly. I want to think that I loved him—it was why I cheated to be with him. But I didn't—and he didn't love me either; at least I don't think he did. We never really talked about it. When he found out about Beth he just wanted to make things worse because he knew it was his. He got to me before my boyfriend did and he made sure to make my life a living hell till I admitted it to him.

To make matters worse, after the pregnancy, after the birth, when she came back into our lives senior year, he practically won the Dad of the Year Award, while I received zero recognition; granted I deserve none. He was always there for her because I was never allowed to be till I got my shit together. I resented him and maybe I still do. Maybe I always knew he'd still be here and I knew I had the potential to escape his scrutiny. If I'm going to get my family back, I need to change things. Things need to change around here.

_You're on to me_

_On to me_

_And all over._

**x.**

Later that night Santana decides it'd be a good idea to spend our last night in Ohio at Old Dogs with Brittany. I somehow knew that her meeting my best friend was going to cause some usual bond between them. Santana just stated she wanted to get to know her better since she was so significant to me when I questioned her motives, and in some strange way I believe it. Santana, since day one, has always been protective of me and wanting to make sure I was okay; in a good state of mind. I guess that's why she arranged this trip; to clear all the negatives from my life, so I can regain positives—positives being my family.

I'm sitting at the bar with Santana. We've ordered our drinks as Brittany is off mingling with people she knows from town. I knew who they were too, but I chose to avoid them at all costs.

I take a sip of my drink, when I look over at Santana. Her line of sight is on the stage. There's a girl singing and she's actually singing surprisingly well. The only people I knew around here that sang karaoke well at this place was our glee club. I continue to stare at the girl; she looks vaguely familiar and her voice—angelic as if God himself sent her to serenade us—it hits me like a ton of bricks. The anvil is tossed upon my chest and I quickly look away.

"I'll be right back," I tell Santana, before getting up and walking to the door that leads to the back alley. I close my eyes as the cool air; thick as ever whips around me. I shiver at the gust, taking deep intakes of breath, before leaning forward.

I turn my head to see a man leaning against the wall of Old Dogs, taking puffs of a cigarette looking off in the distance at nothing in particular. The hairstyle gives it away that it's Puck. My night couldn't get any worse. Can't I just escape these two for once and forget they exist?

I get ready to go back inside, when Santana comes into my head. Turn my negatives into positives, right? These two may have been so significant in my past, but running from them isn't going to change anything. Puck caused the most damage, but she didn't do anything—it was me; I was a scared little girl who let her go; gave up on the possibility of having her; she is my first love and I can look past that. I'm over her, I swear that I am, it's just what ifs keep popping into my head, and I guess I just want to know if she's happy and doing well.

"Smoking is terrible for you," I say and he looks up, pursing his lips out in his same old fashion before taking another drag and tossing it on the floor. He places his foot over the bud to put it out, then stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"What, you a doctor?" He asks, exhaling the smoke. "Of course you are. You've always had the potential," he adds in a slight grumbling, kicking the toe of his shoe at nothing in particular.

I look down for a moment to think about his words. He thought I was better than this place? "Not a doctor," I reply, stepping down the short set of steps, taking small strides towards him.

He watches me carefully. "But you're out of Lima? New York, right?" He asks and I nod, smiling slightly as he does the same, nodding slowly. "If anyone was going to get out of here, it was you," he adds and I shake my head at his sudden kindness. I always knew it was in him, but he hardly voiced it.

"You could have and you still can. Why settle to be a bartender? Oh wait, you wanted to be a rock star while having a pool cleaning business," I exclaim and he leans his head back on the brink, casting his eyes upon the sky. The stars are bright; not nearly as bright as they are when I sit on my barn, but they still shined.

He puffs out a breath of air. "Yeah—that was what I aspired to be. I did well, huh?" He chuckles lowly, holding his hands out to show what he's gotten with his dreams; him and all his glory. It's always fascinating. The movies prepare you for this sort of thing.

Here is this once popular guy in high school. Big football star, the voice that girls would just swoon over and the image to match, and while every girl laid on their backs willingly (me being one of them, but I'd like to forget), he's this—this loser. He's a bartender in Lima, Ohio. To think we dropped our clothes of this guy and even he wouldn't be able to fathom why we would.

"You had all the talent," I compliment him and I know I'm right too. He always sang well, he played the guitar and apparently he sang for Beth before; it calmed her down instantly. I guess music was always going to be a part of her, regardless of us giving her up or not.

"Just not the drive," he kicks a pebble across the alley and grimaces at me. I look away for a moment, then turn back to him.

"You know this is the first normal conversation we've had since Beth?" I tell him and he nods knowingly, pulling his pack of cigarettes out to pull out one and light it up. He takes a drag of it and exhales, before placing it between his fingers and holding it at his side.

"Why is that?" I ask him curiously as his eyes land back on me. He takes another drag, letting the smoke flow out of his nose.

He shrugs. "I guess it's because we never had any other reason to. She wasn't around anymore and it's not like we dated," he replies, then narrows his eyes challengingly. "I was an asshole," he adds and I laugh softly, nodding in agreement because he certainly was indeed.

"Well that hasn't changed from the looks of it," I point to him and he shakes his head, smiling widely before taking another inhale of his cigarette.

"Yes your girlfriend definitely has her guard up," he counters as I'm about to tell him what I've been telling everyone else here. That Santana isn't my girlfriend; that we're just friends, I realize I don't owe him an explanation or need to correct him, plus it bums me out too much to voice it still, so I don't.

I nod slowly. "Yeah she does. She's very protective of me, actually. It's kind of why I'm here," I tell him, stuffing my hands in my own jacket pockets. He throws his bud to the ground and stares at me, knowing I'm probably going to continue. "I guess I needed closer here," I finish and as vague as it is, I know he'll understand.

"A lot of shit happened to you. I know I didn't make it easy for you, but I know she probably already told you this, but look at where you are now Q," he says, referring to my success and New York. "You made it out of this place and regardless of the bullshit, you're only stronger than you were when you left this shit hole," he expresses and minus all the cursing, and revisions, Santana did tell me this. I'm stronger and hearing this from Puck of all people, feels like a breath of fresh air—breath of slightly toxic actually since his cigarette smoke still lingers.

I smile at him, before walking over and wrapping my arms around his neck. He doesn't respond to it right away, knowing I took him off guard, he finally circles his arms fully around me and pulls me tighter. "Thank you. I needed to hear that from you," I whisper into his ear and he just gives me a squeeze to acknowledge my words, and strangely enough, he didn't need to say anything now. It was enough.

_This moment is enough._


	9. Chapter Nine

**Hey guys! So I'm sorry I haven't been updating as much as you'd like, but I'm trying my best. I started school while juggling work, and working on losing the last pounds. It's difficult to get into the swing of things, but I'm trying. Problem with my writing is that I have to be comfortable when I'm doing so. I write best when I'm home, nothing is on, and I'm in my bed. Unfortunately, I dislike being at home right now when we have an unwanted house mate living in our space, but by August that should change and hopefully when I have my days off, I'll dedicate it to my writing. For now though, all I ask for is your patience. I need it from you guys and I beg it from you guys. I'm working very hard on this and struggling to keep my personal life afloat. It's a lot to take on and it's the most active I've been in years; if not ever. **

**Enough about me, this chapter will be hitting the climax of this story, which means there's a good chance that this story is only halfway into its journey. I know most of you are curious about the fate I have for Quinn and Santana, and if you guys don't already notice, I never placed sub categories to specify what kind of journey this is for the two of them, which means there is a mix of things it could be, so to expect that they'll just end up together isn't something to just assume. It's about taking that journey, reading on, seeing if you're right, and keep on. That's why I continue asking for your upmost patience with this story. **

**With that said, please enjoy this chapter and I'll get the next one out as soon as I can. Thanks guys! **

_Chapter Nine._

We got back to New York the next morning after the whole bar get together. When I got back inside, I wasn't so tense and I'd like to think it was because of my conversation with Puck. He seemed to genuinely be proud of everything I've accomplished in my life. He even seemed to believe I was always going to be successful—like he never had any doubt. I appreciated the fact that he held nothing back with me, that he just let us talk like civil human beings.

I discovered that he hasn't seen Beth as long as I have. After he slept with her adoptive mother, she just kind of escaped Lima as fast as she could, and never contacted neither one of us since. I guess when you have the potential of getting arrested you make sure that no one knows. But I'm glad things turned out the way they did, because I know Beth is happy—wherever she is, I know we both made the right decision.

By the time I got back inside though, _Amber_, the girl I pawned for in my little head for two years in high school was gone, which was fine with me. I was over her. She deserved my ex and he deserved her. I don't know why I was so hostile towards them before. I guess because I knew this is where it'd all come down to. Me single and them still together, probably getting ready to start a family. I cringe at the thought of him and her creating a spawn—they clash enough as it is, so it's a disgusting thought, but as long as they're happy.

As I sip my coffee sitting next to Santana, taking in the crisp New York morning air, I smile at her. She doesn't notice my lingering gaze, but I have my sights on another woman. Someone who is far better than she could've ever been to me. Sure Amber could see me hitting my breaking point, but she just never bothered actually helping me—no one did, but the woman sitting next to me.

She's so beautiful, with the wind splaying her long black hair over her shoulders. Her tan skin just glows against the sun's rays. If she's never mine, I don't know what I'll do.

"San," she turns her attention to me and I feel my heart rate increase. Oh God, am I really going to do this right now? Yes. Yes I have to do it; otherwise she'll never be with me. But what if she says no? That's not possible because she nearly kissed me in Ohio.

"I was—uh—I was wondering if—maybe you'd like to go," I fumble and suddenly she looks down at her pants and pulls out her phone.

"Sorry," she whispers, answering her phone and talking into it. The phone never rang to my knowledge. Perhaps it was on vibrate? I don't hear the conversation because of the blood that's rushed into my ears. I feel so embarrassed right now. Why would she ever go out with me when I can't even talk to her like a normal human being? We've been friends for a little while, so why can't I just talk to her normal like all the other times I've spoken with her?

_It's because you're afraid of losing her_, and that couldn't be any truer of a statement. It tugs at my heart strings to think of ever losing her as a friend because she knows how I feel about her, but at the same time, it could have a possible happy ending if she does say yes. I could fall asleep to her every night then wake up in her arms every morning, I could kiss her whenever I felt like it, and I could make love to her whenever she and I wanted. Heat builds up in all the places they shouldn't right now, thinking about laying with her with nothing on. God knows I think about it more than it should be considered normally possible. Ever since that day she stripped in my apartment—I think about it. Ever since I touched that rippled stomach of hers—I think about it. Ever since I first held her hand with no glove—I think about it. It's not healthy and it probably won't ever be.

"Sorry that was the Dean. I have to get to the university early for a student," she explains and I shake my head and hand to brush off that I understand because I do. Work is more important than my question anyway, right? Right?

"I understand. I'll talk to you later," I tell her getting up from the bench in Central Park to hug her. She kisses my cheek and it burns. I gulp as she begins to walks away; she turns around halfway and blows another kiss at me. I giggle, waving to her.

"I'll call you later," she yells and I nod, folding my arms over my chest. My nerves only coursed through me more intensely because I have to build up enough courage to try again another time.

Maybe it'll be easier when were not in person.

**x.**

I'm walking over to the lunch area, having had brought it today. I needed to stop spending money by taking myself and Brittany out to lunch so much, when I have clients I need to attend to that for. I pull out my food and grab one of the plastic forks in the draw of the lounge. As I take a seat, my phone begins to ring and once retrieved, I smile at whose name and picture pops up.

"Hello Miss. Lopez, what do I owe this call?" I ask and I can tell from the slight giggle that she was amused.

I smile into the receiver as she sighs on the other line. I miss her smile already. "I told you I was going to call you this morning, did I not?" she questions as I take a bite of my food, letting my lips remove all of its contents.

"Mhm…mhm, I believe you did," I reply crossing my legs under the table as I chew soundlessly. "So is everything okay with your student?" I ask curiously since she seemed to have rushed away rather frantically this morning after her phone call.

"Huh? Oh yeah, yeah he's okay. He was just concerned about what he could do to pass my class," she exclaimed and I narrow my eyes curiously. Was she really that difficult of a teacher?

"Don't fail anybody on purpose you," I warn her, poking my plastic fork out as if she was sitting right there in front of me. She chuckles softly on the other end and I'm positive she's shaking her head at my empty threat.

"What are you going to do if I do?" She challenges as I dig my fork back into my food. I shake my head as I really think of a valid answer to give her. The only type of weapon I have is this stupid plastic fork.

"I'll stab you with my plastic fork," I reply as quickly as I can take it back. My eyes widen at my response and my cheeks flush at how lame that truly sounds, but before I can even change it, a flash flood of laughter rushes through the ear piece and I'm doubled over in embarrassment.

"Oh my God! Quinn!" She screams between her fit and I can't help, but be even more mortified. She probably thinks I'm a loser right now. A plastic fork as never been a weapon! A plastic spork when we were in elementary school was when they'd turn the spikes down and flick it at people, but not a fork! Oh God, I'm never living this one down, especially when it comes to Santana—she'll never forget it.

"Okay! You can stop now!" I chuckle as she calms down, breathing heavily. There are probably tears running down her face from laughing so hard. Well good! I hope she peed her pants or something embarrassing so I can return the favor.

"I'm sorry," she breaths out and I just merely nod with a smirk; she isn't sorry. Not at all, in fact.

We sit there for a moment in silence as Santana catches her breath. I've noticed it takes her longer than someone of her stature to catch their breath. I know she doesn't smoke; I would've smelt it on her clothes, so that can't be it. I don't think she works out unless you count walking the city after taking the subway, which in some form it does count as physical activity. I suppose it's not enough though. I need to get her to the gym. Maybe that can be one of our dates; something physical. Oh shit! Images are back.

"Stop thinking so much," I hear through the receiver and I just look down at my salad, laughing softly; how she always knows what I'm doing.

"Well I'm just trying to sort through what to say," I tell her softly and she says silent for a moment as if to let me ponder my thoughts, but Santana isn't that generous to me, especially since she hates when I stay in my head.

"Just let it come to you then," she exclaims and I know exactly what I want to say. I do, it's just building that courage up enough to do so. After this morning, I was set on telling Santana how I felt for her. How I wanted to see if we could form a relationship from our amazing friendship, but now that rejection I'm feeling in the pit of my stomach is tugging on my heart strings again to the point where my heart could just split if she said no.

I take a breath and exhale slowly. I'll never know until I try, right? There's nothing to be so afraid of. "San, I've been meaning to ask you since Ohio, if maybe—maybe we could go—"

"Oh, oh wait Q, there's someone on the other line. Just hold on a minute," she says quickly, hitting call waiting button. I screw my eyes shut, rubbing my forehead with my right wrist as I hold the phone in the same hand.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," I mumble quietly feeling that terrible rejection building up yet again. I thought this time I was for sure going to get it out; that I'll be passed this shitty feeling. At least if she said no, I'd know and learn to respect her wishes, but I can't even ask her because someone always interrupts at the opportune time.

"Hey Quinn?" her voice comes back through the receiver and I blink tiredly.

"Yeah, still here," I respond quietly and I wait for her to acknowledge me again, before I get back to my task at hand; my mission.

"Sorry that was one of the other professors. We have an important meeting in a half hour, so I have to prepare for it. So I'll talk to you later. Why don't you come over to my place after work and we can grab a bite to eat?" She says and as much as that sounds like she's asking me out, I know it's a friendly dinner between two friends and I'll just have to accept that for what it is for now. In the meantime, I'll pretend this is a date for as long as I can and embrace it.

"Yeah sounds good. Good luck on your meeting," I tell her with a small smile, even though I know she can't see it.

"Thanks, have a good rest of your day at work," she exclaims before we hang up. I sigh tossing the phone on the table, rubbing my eyes in frustration. How is it this difficult to ask someone out? Frankly, that's always been my problem, hasn't it? I can't remember one time I've ever just asked someone out on my own. I've been so caught up in myself that people have done the job for me; people would come up to me. I liked it that way; I _like_ it that way. It makes it easier on me, so I don't have to be so concerned on if the person actually likes me or not. God it feels like high school all over again, and as I'm sure the world is aware, high school sucked.

I grab the phone again and send out a text to Brittany. I need her help and she's always been there for me. Sure she isn't the best person to ask for relationship advice, but she sure as hell been on enough first dates to help me out with this dilemma I'm having.

My phone beeps and I pick it up to read the message.

**Britt:**

**What's going on?**

I write back everything I'm feeling; not leaving any detail out. Brittany's known I've been smitten with Santana since day one and was probably wondering when I was going to drop the bomb on her and just take that step; however, she never questioned it, but she didn't have to. I already knew she was curious; it's just in her nature.

I go into even tell her our moments in Ohio, like waking up in each other's arms, the driving incident, and our almost kiss. They felt like real actions couples take. We hold hands and hug each other so tenderly when we see each other, and kiss each other on the cheek. Sure friends do that often, but to nearly kiss one another on the lips, doesn't sound just like friends unless we were begging for attention, but we were on top of a barn at my parents' house.

My phone beeps again and I open the message with her reply:

**Britt:**

**Q! That's great! I mean she sounds like she really likes you, especially if she was going to kiss you. And what the hell? You never took me up on your barn. I told you I wanted to go up there and you just kept saying 'no it's dangerous and scary up there'; BULLSHIT QUINN FABRAY! **

I roll my eyes at her response, before my phone beeps yet again with part two of her hopefully helpful side of the message.

**Britt:**

**Sorry rant! Anyway, I don't understand what you're so worried about. If she doesn't like you, then it just means your heart was meant for someone else. You have a big heart Q, and you're beautiful, smart, successful, and everything a woman could look for in her future wife and if Santana doesn't see that, then it's her loss. That doesn't mean you shouldn't take the risk, just because she isn't. Worse that happens, she says no and the girl of your dreams sweeps you off your feet. :)**

_But she is the girl of my dreams and I've already been swept._

**x. **

The conversation with Brittany didn't exactly clear my worried mind. I still am panicking about asking Santana out after so many failed attempts so far. Okay it was only two, but that's two times too many. I should've only had to panic once and gotten it over with, but no—other people want her attention, therefore it places a strain on my chances of getting it out faster.

The day dragged on and on to the point where I didn't even want to function anymore. I had no meetings or interruptions today, which was greatly appreciated. I pretty much vegetated after lunch in my office working on some plans for Pepsi's next commercial. It's not easy either, after they got that CGI looking baby to do some crazy stunts because his parents were too busy fangirling over the new Pepsi Next product.

But as I've decided before, everyone adored the old commercials with the little girl with the dimples. Unfortunately, we couldn't grab her services because she's in her twenties and just doesn't want that life anymore; understandable; however, that puts a strain on my plan. I still want to go back to the basics, like when Britney Spears danced in her commercial and when they had other celebrities taking the reins. It's the greatest thing, much like for Coca-Cola; everyone adored the polar bears and Santa ones on Christmas.

It's not easy being in marketing; that's for sure, but I'm working hard to come up with a basic write up of the commercial, so I can present it to my team. If all goes well, then it'll be filmed within the next couple of weeks.

I sigh placing my pen down on my desk in frustration. Not only is my job in itself stressing me out, but the whole Santana thing isn't helping either. I just have a lot on my mind that it's hard to focus solely on one thing.

When the clock strikes five-thirty I know I only have to focus on one thing now and that's tell Santana I want to go out on a date, see how things go with us and if we connect better as lovers than friends, then the world will be set right; well in my imagination it will be.

I pick up my purse and get ready to head out for the day to take the subway out to Santana's apartment. I've only been there once or twice, mostly because she and I would meet either at mine or at the coffee shop. She has some sort of reservation of having people at her place. Apparently she thinks she has to run around cleaning everything, and after seeing my place, she knows she'd have to because I'm so hardcore neat freak.

I take the elevator down and lean against the far wall of it, looking through my phone at some of the pictures I took while we were on vacation. I smile at the one I took of Santana driving my dad's truck after I nearly crashed into the barn. She had her big aviators on and her porn star country get up on. She didn't see me take the photo as her eyes were peeled out of the windshield. She looked content and at such peace for someone who nearly died because of an inexperienced driver like myself.

I flip through in my gallery to one of her asleep in her white T-shirt. Her hair is slightly disheveled as her face is buried into my pillow. I remember waking up and seeing her arm slung over my waist as she breathed in softly; her lips pouting ever so slightly. I feel my heart speed up at just looking at her just like this; even if it's a picture—I remember the morning so clearly. I want more mornings like those, where I can just watch her sleep and think how lucky I am just to be the only one to have her in my arms. If she says no, I don't think I could recover from that.

The elevator dings and I place my phone back into my purse as I walk out to head out the revolving door. I take the short distance to the subway and wait with the rest of the people for our route to get there. I fold my arms nervously, knowing I just have to get it over with as soon as I get to her apartment. I can't deal with the idea of just not knowing anymore.

The tracks screech wildly as the train makes the turn and comes to a slowing stop. The doors open and we all file in, squishing in with the others who were already in there. I hold the bar as the train jerks back to life as a man with a messenger bag stands behind me—much closer than I'd like, but it's cramped so I totally understand feeling his junk on my backside—in all honesty, I do.

I turn around and grimace at him, he returns an awkward look to me. He fixes his glasses with his other hand that isn't grasping the same pole I am.

"I'm sorry that I'm completely invading your space," he whispers into my ear and I look back up to piercing green eyes. I smile genuinely, for real this time.

"It's okay, I'm not mad, but I totally understand you can't exactly help it," I reply and he laughs softly, nodding in agreement.

We stand there for a moment longer until the train comes to a halt and he lets go of the pole. "Well I'll be off now," he says and I look up, nodding distantly. He waves awkwardly before walking off. I look on in confusion—he must not be a people person, but he certainly dresses classier than any man I've ever seen.

I watch him go, placing his ear buds in as he places a beanie on, getting ready to brave the cold. The train begins to move onward to the next stop as I am left not feeling nearly as cramped as I was before.

**x.**

I pull my coat closer to my body as I make it to Santana's apartment building. Her building isn't nearly as nice as the one I live in, but it works for her. It's lined with old bricks and has a little stoop—basically the projects, more or less. She said it's what she was used to living in growing up and that the old brick look gives it character. I smile at her honesty—I wouldn't live here, but like I said, it works for her.

I walk up the short steps of the stoop and ascend up the stairs to her apartment. I feel my nerves kicking into full force again and I begin to hyperventilate, so I stop. I can't walk up to her feeling this way—she'll think something is truly wrong with me and I don't want to worry her.

I place my back against the wall and close my eyes to take deep breaths. I let them out slowly through my nose.

"What if she says no?" I breath out of my parted lips, feeling tears well up in my eyes. Oh God, really? I can't let myself turn into an emotional mess right before I see her. I need to just relax and get through this painlessly, but I know I'm working myself up way too much.

I hear a knock in the distance which snaps me out of my breakdown. I poke my head out of the side and see a short woman with long brown hair in front of Santana's apartment. She looks like she's growing impatient by the way her foot is tapping on the wood floorboards. I gulp; who is this woman?

Santana opens the door and I turn back in and keep my back against the wall as I listen to them carefully in utter confusion. I've never seen Santana with anyone else, but her family members. Could this be another one of her students? Wait, that doesn't make sense. Santana isn't the type of person to let her students come visit her at her own apartment, unless she's sleeping with them. Oh my God! Wait no, she wouldn't do that. She gave that coffee girl the cold shoulder when she hit on her and she was gorgeous.

"You know I don't make house calls San," I hear the woman's voice. It's soft and she was probably only a little bit older than us; early thirties at least. I can't let myself be known now. What is she talking about? House call? She sounds like she's like a prostitute or something. Oh my God, is Santana into paying someone for sex?

I pop my head out and see the brown paper bag in the woman's hand. Drugs, maybe? Seriously Santana, why do you have to be so secretive? Why can't you just tell me if you're in trouble or just be more open about things, so I don't have to speculate?

"I know, but I needed you,"

She needed her? I feel my heart just pinch a little at that. What about me? I've never seen this woman ever there for Santana. I've always been there for her since we met and now she needs her over me. I feel tears well up in my eyes again and I sniffle quietly as I continue to listen to their conversation, knowing I shouldn't, but I have to know if I'm wasting my time. I need to know if Santana and I are meant for each other or if this woman already has her heart. Or if what I'm getting into isn't something I should get into.

"I can see that, but I have what you need, hopefully it'll help relax you more," the woman exclaims and I lower my head in defeat. If Santana's into drugs, I don't want to be a part of it. I don't have a problem being her friend, but I can't let myself get involved with someone who is doing something illegal and harmful to her body.

_I just can't._

I take a deep breath and pull my phone out, going through the contacts. I get to the letter and push dial on the phone. It's sudden, but there is another amazing woman I connected with earlier and it wouldn't be right to not see where things could go. She's absolutely stunning and made it obvious she liked me. The difference between her and Santana is she isn't hard to read and she isn't secretive; I don't enjoy secrets, so maybe it's time for something new for a change.

"Hey Caroline, it's Quinn. I know this is sudden and long overdue, but is that offer for dinner still open?"

**You guys probably hate me, but I did say this is the climax of the story, but it is only halfway into the journey. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and like I've said, I know it's taking longer than you'd like, but a lot has been going on. **

**I just registered for my fall semester, so I'll be taking two English courses and two other classes. I'm going for Mass Communications, so I'm writing a lot as it is. Sure it has nothing to do with the story, but even so, my major requires writing, plus I work. It's getting tiring when I work late most days, but I'm trying my best for you guys. **

**I tried also to make this chapter longer and obviously, I haven't done a good job. When I write multiple scenes, I picture them in my head and they're longer when I think about them, but are shorter when written down. It's frustrating, but as I said, I'm trying my best to make you all happy. **

**So let me know what you guys think, let me know what you think will happen, and please review because as you know they're always appreciated.**

**Thanks guys!**

**Sam  
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	10. Chapter Ten

**Hey guys, I'm so sorry for the long awaiting update. Things got pretty hectic for the last two months with school starting, working a lot of hours, and managing a social life; I just didn't know how to handle it all. Work has slowed down tremendously, my social life is going to have to slow down because work is, and school is just school. Anyway, I had time to finish this chapter yesterday and I did. I know most of you aren't going to like it till more towards the end, but this is necessary and this character plays a huge part in the story, and hello she's modeled after Amber Heard! Who wouldn't want to see her?**

**With that said, thank you so much for the reviews and I hope you are all still invested in it. I hope you guys still enjoy this story, and review. I also hope that it doesn't take me months to update again, but I know how things are supposed to go from this point on. Anyway, I'll leave you all to the update, please review afterwards and if you guys have any questions, go to Tumblr and type in my penname, then the Tumblr website—I'm there.**

**x.  
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_Chapter Ten._

I'm sitting at the restaurant waiting for Caroline, knowing I really didn't want her to pick me up at home. Somehow I just didn't know how things were going to turn out, so I didn't want her to be one of those people who knew where my house was; besides she said she had some work to finish up, so I understood.

I don't know what to expect. My palms are sweating profusely and I can't begin to understand why I'm so nervous. She picked this elegant place, so I knew I had to dress my best. I had to smile a little because I knew in reality this place was far more expensive than any restaurant I've ever been to since I lived in New York, or ever.

I take a deep breath, sitting at the table patiently—she still had time, and just then I see her rushing in with a classy blue dress that hugged her curves in an almost obnoxiously perfect way, but then I remember, she's here for me; no one else. In some way, that gives me a sense of accomplishment—my inner Cheerio's bitch stirs within.

She sends a smile my way, her long blonde hair moving easily with each set of movements. Her blue eyes sparkle under the dim light as she advances closer—_she's absolutely perfect_. I can feel my heart lugging in my chest and it's remarkable that I could catch the eye of someone so flawless.

"Well hello there. I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long," she breaths out, placing her clutch down on the table. I wave off and shake my head because I really haven't been—only a few minutes really, though it felt longer with the nerves picking at my skin.

She leans forward, giving me a side smile. "You look beautiful tonight and I can't thank you enough for calling. Took longer than I hoped, but I held some hope," she chuckles, glancing down at the menu placed in front of her and I smile softly at her words. She's honest, I can appreciate that. She liked me that much that she wanted me to call—_she waited_.

"I'm sorry," I can only muster up enough, not knowing how to approach a situation such as this. I can't remember the last real date I've had because of work and my own thoughts.

She looks up from the print and shakes her head. "Oh no, don't be. I know how forward it can be to have someone just give you their number. You think 'what do I do with this? Are they some weirdo or what?' So yes, do not apologize," she replies and I nod, knowing she totally just picked my brain at that moment. It's why I didn't want her coming to pick me up at my place—what if things didn't work out? I knew she liked me that night, so who's to say she won't hold on like a stalker or something? Of course she wouldn't, she's radiant. She could have anyone in New York; she'd get over me in an instant.

"So tell me something about yourself because if I remember correctly I ranted and raved about me the entire night, which is something I don't usually do, but I know nothing about you," she says, placing the menu on her bread plate to take a sip of the wine I ordered while we waited. She hums at the taste, placing her fingertips together. "Excellent choice by the way," she smiles and I look away bashfully. Her smile alone can make me weak and incredibly nervous in an instant.

"There's not much to say really," I shrug because I feel like my accomplishments and my faults aren't really things I should say at this point. If anything remotely close to a relationship was to transpire out of this date, she'll know my past. It's a fucked up one, but there are worse things—I've learned that much from my week long trip to Ohio.

I suppose I could tell her about what I do for a living, what college I went to, and such—the basics. "Well I'm in marketing, so I head the advertising department, and I went to Yale, graduated top of my class," I tell her before she can tell me what I already knew.

She looks at me with impressed smile and all I can do is look away bashfully. I feel the blush and heat radiating off my cheeks down my neck, and I shiver at the fact that she could do such a thing to me.

"Remarkable," I look up at her one word response as she sips at the wine some more, before placing the glass back down. "I mean my parents were impressed with Stanford, but Yale is just fantastic, and to graduate top of your class—so attractive," she breaths out the last of her response and I see that glint her eyes as she says it. My stomach tugs in nervousness and all I can do is huff out breaths, laughing slightly to hide my embarrassment.

She giggles at my reaction—I'm glad my embarrassment gives her some entertainment, but nevertheless her laugh is beautiful. I could listen to it for hours; she seems genuinely amazing as a person all around.

"So why New York?" I ask her curiously, knowing she was in California her entire life. As we sit there eating our food to the serene atmosphere that this place has created for romantic occasions; I'm curious to know more, even though she probably would write me a book so I'd know every bit of her life.

She chews her bite and swallows before speaking, I smile at her manners. "Well there are several reasons. I came to New York one year with an ex-girlfriend and remembered how beautiful it was. I thought about wanting to live here. The buildings have so many stories to tell where as California has Hollywood, while that's glamorous, for my profession, New York seemed more substantial. Then when opportunity knocked for me to transfer, I jumped at it, especially when my ex and I split," she elaborates and I nod in understanding since I know I fell in love with this place after the Glee Club went to Nationals our first year. We may not have won, but a trip to New York was still worth it with my friends.

"Was it worth it?" I ask quietly and she looks me in the eyes with those light eyes. She smiles warmly, taking my hand from across the table, nodding slowly.

"Every moment I've been here thus far has made me realize I've one hundred percent made the best decision in my entire life," she says with that warm smile and I know she's sincere. Maybe I need someone like her in my life.

No secrets. No second guessing.

_Just honesty and what a breath of fresh air it is._

**x.**

It's been a few weeks since my first date with Caroline and we've spent quite a few days together after, whether it be for lunch during the work days or on the weekends for dinner. I suppose it's safe to say we're together. She's pretty remarkable and such a gentleman, if you want to call her that. We work a few blocks away from each other, so that's always convenient, and not shockingly so, since I work on the financial district so to speak.

I oddly enough haven't thought about Santana any times I've been with Caroline and maybe I should feel bad, but I honestly don't. It's a terrible thing because she is one of my good friends, but I loved her—I love her, but she doesn't love me in that way. Caroline makes things easy and Santana makes things challenging. I can't read her and with Caroline I don't have to. It's confusing really and the sad part is, is that I must feel guilty because I haven't told Santana about Caroline and I dating; just little tidbits; nothing major.

I'm walking the park with Caroline tonight and what a fantastic night it's been. We've done nothing, but hold hands, talk, and bask in the fresh air. She made me smile in more ways than one and I can't ask for a more beautiful night.

"I guess you could say I'm old fashion. I love art and jazz music, but it doesn't mean I can't get down at the club," she says twirling me around to dance in a semi club fashion. I start laughing as she booty pops as I joins in.

"I can see that," I lick my lips as we pull away and she captures her bottom lip between her teeth. She's so beautiful under the streetlights and in any light really, that I could get lost.

She takes my hand again and we walk the rest of the way to my apartment. She's already been inside, but never stayed and I'm not sure when I'll let her, then again she's never asked. Wait, no one should ever ask, should they?

We step out of the elevator and my heels click in unison with hers on the hardwood floor of the hall. It's a short distance to my apartment and when we stop, I fiddle with my keys in nervousness and I'm not sure why. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, when I feel her body closer to mine. Her front pressed to my back, my breath hitches at the feel of her breath on my skin. She places a light kiss under my ear, after taking careful strides to push my hair from my neck, leaving it bare and exposed.

I internally moan and push further back into her body until I can't take her assaults anymore. I unlock the door, turning around to face her. I look her up and down, biting my bottom lip, then meet her eyes—those piercing blues and I'm instantly captivated.

I pull her in the apartment and the rest of the night is filled things I can't even explain.

**x.**

The next morning I'm awoken by an arm draped over my hip. The sun is blinding for this time of day and I yawn, before turning over to see Caroline's face buried deep into my pillow. I would've shared, but it was sort of the last thing on our minds last night. I blush furiously at the thought of just under my comforter we're both nude. I'm sure my hair is all disheveled and I grow slightly envious that the dishevel look is carried well on her. I huff at this really because she's utter perfection.

I slowly slide my way out of bed as to not wake her, but the grip is only tightened around my midsection and nails begin to run softly on my skin. I giggle and turn around to see her blue eyes have opened tiredly and she has a hint of a smile playing across her lips.

"Where are you off to?" She asks exhausted and I certainly don't blame her after what transpired last night. If I didn't have to get up for work, I would be content with laying in bed all day.

I smirk and pull her down on her back to slide on top of her. Grabbing her hands and lacing her fingers with mine, I place them over her head and kiss her lips softly. She sighs into the soft kiss, letting her tongue run over my bottom lip ever so gently. I grant access and she immediately is met with mine, and we stay like this for a few minutes till I pull away regrettably.

"I have to shower for work," I whisper into her lips. She scrunches her face cutely and whines slightly childishly.

"Damn you grown-ups," she jests as I slide off her, letting go of her hands as she tries to cling on to one as long as she can.

I smile widely at her as I make my way into the bathroom. I turn around and see her watching me walk away. She has that glint in her eyes and that small smile still on her face. Her head is resting on her arms and I can't help but get butterflies under her gaze. What did I do to get so lucky to run into someone, under the most awkward time?

I'm not in love or anything, but I know if it continues down the road to be like this, there is a high possibility I could fall for this woman.

I start the water and let it heat up before stepping into it. I run my head under the shower, turning to place my face under the heated liquid in hopes to wake up; I feel a pair of lips ghosting over my shoulder. I shudder at the contact as fingertips scratch up my skin. I let out an unsteady breath when those lips graze the shell of my ear. Teeth scrape that sensitive area, and I'm putty in her hands.

I turn around and see her dripping wet from the shower. I lean in and kiss her hard as she wraps her arms around my waist, running her hands up my back and down to cup my backside. I gasp and push forward into her unintentionally, but it gets a rising moan out of her.

I push her against the wall and she groans as my hands wander up her body to her breasts, cupping them both easily in my palms. I nip her bottom lip, knowing already that it drives her mad.

"Do you have time?" She whispers huskily and I breath out a chuckle into her lips, trailing my fingers to where I know for a fact she needs attention.

"I don't think I could stop if I wanted to now," she groans as I enter them inside her, pumping them slowly as to grow the friction. She gasps as I work her up, moaning louder and louder, biting her bottom lip. I trail my lips down her neck, pushing my fingers harder and deeper into her core, knowing she's getting closer with the way her sounds are getting progressively louder and more frequent. Her eyes have screwed shut and I know her climax is just about to rack her body.

"Quinn, fuck. Mmm, Quinn!" Her walls clench around my digits and her body shudders. I push my body up against hers to prevent her from falling to the hard porcelain tub. I help her ride it out and she groans when I slowly pull out of her. Her heart races and her breathing is uncontrollable. I didn't think I was capable of making someone get to this point in sex, but apparently I underestimated my own…talents.

She relaxes a little bit and I smile widely when her eyes land on me. She laughs breathlessly, before placing her arm around my neck to pull me back to her lips.

We kiss for a little bit until I pull away. "I really have to get ready for work now," she pouts at this, but nods, knowing I just compromised with her for those few minutes that we just had.

"Fair enough, plus I should get ready myself since I have a hearing this afternoon," she says and I nod to her with a smirk.

"Busy woman in a pants suit," I remark and she chuckles, pouring shampoo in her hands, running her fingers through my hair.

I sigh contently at the way she lathers it into my scalp. "I know how can you resist?" She jests, pecking my nose. I shake my head with my eyes closed instead of voicing my response. I've never had someone that I was dating give me a shower before, but it felt nice to be taken care of.

Caroline and I have been dating for less than a month, it only just took us awhile to get to the point of having sex, but if I had to go back to being celibate, I don't think I could. She honestly has been the best I've had, though I haven't had much to compare to, but I know she'll be a drug.

And the way she's rubbing my body down, I'll be addicted.

"So when do I get to meet Britt and Santana?" She asked and I hum, before my eyes shoot open at the mention of my best friends…_Santana especially_. I haven't really been thinking about them and Santana doesn't know much of Caroline, except that we went on a few dates, but it was nothing serious—that was over three weeks ago. Brittany on the other hand knows the extent of my relationship with Caroline. She knows we've been dating and that it's going to most likely get serious because we both want it to happen. She's been begging me to let her meet her and I know I need to since she needs to approve; that won't be a problem though.

"How about tonight? I haven't seen them in a little while. We can meet at that bar near the courthouse that way we'll be close to you, so when you get out of your hearing you can just meet us there," I suggest and she smiles, letting the water rinse me off, before turning the water off. She gets out of the shower and wraps my towel around my body, kissing the side of my neck, then wraps her arms around me.

"Sounds good, I'll meet you there after that then. I probably won't be any later than seven, so just expect me around then," she says and I nod, kissing her lips as I watch her dry off and walk back into my bedroom to grab her clothes. I sigh contently feeling a wave of happiness rush over me.

_I hope they like you as much as I do._

**x.**

I'm sitting with my drink at one of the high top tables waiting for my friends and girlfriend. I figured I'd be the first one there just in case Caroline got out early and ran into one of them before I could introduce them. It's safe to say I'm highly nervous about them meeting one another, especially Santana. I guess I feel a little guilty about not telling Santana more about her and I guess having had deep rooting feelings for her in the first place, then jumping on calling Caroline made it worse. I had planned on asking Santana out that day at her apartment, but I just couldn't risk our friendship over something I felt now could've been so petty.

_It's better this way. _At least that's what I keep telling myself.

"Q!" I look up and see Brittany waving from the door, walking quickly through the small crowd towards the table. I smile widely and she embraces me tightly, flipping her hair and placing bag down. "I so need a drink," she grumbles, waving down a waitress to order something.

I take a deep breath, feeling the nerves trickle further up my stomach to my chest. It's Brittany, I know I have nothing to worry about, but it's just a reminder that Santana will be here soon and Caroline. I'm just worried about their butting personalities. They'll clash, I feel—at least I know Caroline will be nice; Santana isn't one to be around the bush.

"So where's this hot eye candy that's been keeping you MIA from my life?" She asks and I blush furiously, hiding my face with my hand. I scrunch my nose, shaking my head slightly.

"She is in court right now. She's a DA, so she'll be joining us after her case," I tell her and she nods impressed, taking a sip from her small straw.

"A woman in a pants suit, huh? Sounds appealing to me," she comments and I start laughing, pushing her playfully.

"I said the same thing to her this morning," Brittany laughs along with me, then stops for a moment.

"Wait—," she stops, narrowing her eyes curiously, trying to put her words together and then her eyes widen. "You got some didn't you?" She gasps much louder than I'd like her to.

"Shh—yes, okay. She stayed over last night because of it and then this morning we showered, nothing more," I shrug to her taking a sip of my drink and she shifts her head slightly.

"Yeah because you went the whole way; there ain't nowhere else to go, except down the aisle," she mumbles and I cough on my drink at the thought of marriage. I imagined by now I would be married, then my career happened and those dreams were soon crushed, but to have it placed out as an actual possibility now is mind blowing; however, I'm not even going to bother suggesting that to Caroline now; we're not ready for it.

"Damn, she is sexy," I hear Brittany's voice ring through my ear and my eyes shoot up to the woman that just walked into the bar. I feel a bubbling feeling in my stomach and a small smirk plays along my lips—_oh Brittany_. The woman spots us and makes her way over to us with a large smile, showing off her beautiful smile, blonde hair flowing with each movement.

When she makes it to us, she leans down and places a kiss on my lips. I lick my lips after she pulls away as she smiles widely. "Sorry I'm a little late," she whispers and I wave off, wrapping my arms around her neck then look over at Brittany.

"Britt this is Caroline. Ly this is my best friend since high school Brittany," I introduce them, using a nickname, which was hard to find since her name sounds so old fashion. I called her it after our third date and it only made her smile. I remember asking her why it made her smile and she said: "it's said when you make a nickname for someone; it means you're not only comfortable with them, but also want them to stay." I understand now what she means, because I'd hate for her to leave now.

"Hey nice to finally meet my friend's girlfriend, though she failed to mention how sexy you'd be," Brittany flirts and it forces a laugh out of Caroline as she takes her seat next to me. She places a hand on my thigh and places some hair behind her ear.

"And you wonder why I never let you meet any of my girlfriends," I remark to Brittany who merely sticks her tongue out at me.

Caroline kisses my cheek and whispers. "No one could ever steal me away from you even if they tried," I turn my head to face her and peck her lips in response because that is probably the nicest confirmation I've ever had from someone.

"How fucking adorable," I look up and see Santana standing there. I gulp at her sudden appearance. I visibly tense at her words. They sounded almost cold, but maybe that was just my imagination, expecting me to believe Santana was capable of being a total bitch for no reason—she can be I'm sure.

"San," I breath out. Her eyes are narrowed at me and it almost looks like she's glaring at the closeness of Caroline and I. I gulp again and let out a breath. "Um this is Caroline, my girlfriend. Caroline, this is Santana," I gesture between the two and Santana smiles sourly, blinking furiously.

"Nice to meet you Santana," Caroline holds her hand out and Santana takes it, shaking it from where she stood and finally sat down next to Brittany on the other end from where I sat with Caroline. She watches me with a hard gaze and I can't understand why. I'm so confused by the way she is taking this meeting.

Brittany looks over at Santana. "Want a drink?" Santana looks up at her and nods, holding up three fingers. I set my gaze on her as Brittany gets up to order as the bar has grown a little busier. Santana looks back at me and she holds eye contact with me for as long as I could muster it.

"So Santana, what is it that you do?" Caroline asks curiously, holding my hand. Santana gives her attention and leans back in her seat.

"I'm a professor at NYU, how about yourself?" She asks somewhat snarky, mocking Caroline's manners and proper English. I know Caroline noticed this, but tried her best to keep it from bothering her. Maybe somehow she knew she had the upper hand in the success pole.

"I'm a District Attorney down the street," she responds and Santana chuckles softly as Brittany brings back the three drinks, placing them in front of Santana.

"How convenient that Quinn here chose this bar," she grumbles and Caroline narrows her eyes curiously. She knew why I chose this bar and obviously Santana did too. It was convenient for _everyone _really since it was literally between each of our jobs.

We sat there in silence as Santana chugged most of her drink in one sitting. I look over at Caroline as she looks away towards the door. She places her hand back on my thigh and rubs it gently, as if to show she's not mad or anything. The air has visibly become thick and I can see even Brittany doesn't know how to clear it—and she's exceptional at it.

"So…_Caroline_, where did you go to college?" Santana asked thickly, folding her hands as if she's interviewing my girlfriend. My mouth drops slightly and I shake my head in disgust at my friend's behavior.

"Stanford," she replies instantly with smile, squeezing my thigh in reassurance.

"And how did you meet Quinn? I'm asking you all this because my friend here failed to mention jack shit about you," she blinks and I close my eyes. I suppose that makes loads of sense, but that doesn't give her the right to be rude to her—_be rude to me_.

I feel the guilt washing over me. I know I should've told Santana as much about Caroline as I did Brittany, but in some way, I thought she wouldn't be happy for me. In some way, I thought I was doing the wrong thing; giving up on Santana so easily. I thought I was doing the right thing just letting her be my friend and nothing more. Yet now I sit here watching how displeased she is with my actions and taking it out on the person she shouldn't be taking it out on, I feel defeated.

"Well we met at a Halloween party at a bar further into the city. She looked lost and I looked out of place, so we spoke and I gave her my number. Although it took her a little longer than I had anticipated on her to call, she finally did a month ago and the rest is history," Caroline elaborates for Santana the small bit of information and listening to it placed out in the open, it really didn't seem like much to tell.

I finally make eye contact with Santana again and she grimaces at me. "Hmm interesting," she quietly replies, chugging her second drink down easily, before sliding her last one to Brittany. "On me—enjoy yourself," she adds, pulling out a few bills and laying them out on the high top before leaving out the door.

I watch her go and all I can hear is the faint sound of Brittany talking to Caroline. I already knew it was about how terrible this get together was and yet I just feel—I feel terrible. I gulp and feel a hand on my back. I look up and meet Caroline's concerned blue eyes.

"I'm fine, but I think I'm going to head home," I tell her softly and she gets up with me.

"I can walk you if you'd like," she says and I shake my head, kissing her cheek. I'm grateful for the offer, but I knew I wanted to be alone. Maybe she and Brittany can get to know each other better. I know in some way, they could become friends—maybe even better ones than her and I are already.

I walk out of the bar, pulling my coat closer to my body and walk down the streets of New York. I'm not sure where my feet were taking me, but it was not in the direction of home. No, I end up on route to the subway, taking the flights of stairs down to get to the part I know pretty well.

I sigh heavily, waiting for the train to arrive. The fact that I feel guilty shouldn't be the issue, but it is. It is and I just wished that things were easier between Santana and I—I wish they were more like Caroline and I. There is no complications, no misinterpretations. Everything is so easygoing and simple, and for once it's something that will make everything so much lighter.

As I stand on the subway, my eyes move around the cart at the random various people. I never realized just how many different kinds of people ride the subway. They vary during the hours of the day. The business tycoons ride it early mornings and late afternoons, the weird types ride it late at night and at dawn. I wonder which group I fit into majority of the time?

I walk out of the cart as it halts and walk up the stairs towards an apartment building. I knew walking these streets during this time of night was a bad thing, but I didn't care. I honestly couldn't because I had business that needed to be taken care of. I had to talk to Santana about this whole situation and be honest—if it came down to it.

I step up the stairs to her building and instantly bang at her door. I stand there for a moment, letting her have time to get to the door, but she doesn't answer. I try again and repeat the same motion, finally hearing the door unlock. I see her standing in front of me with a white men's undershirt and shorts on.

She leans against the doorframe, crossing her arms. "Shouldn't you be with your girl?" She speaks and I look away, sighing deeply.

"Look I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything about how far things progressed between her and I. I'm still trying to figure it all out myself, but there was absolutely no reason to treat her the way you did earlier," I tell her and she rolls her eyes, sighing with a huff. She pushes herself off the doorframe and walks away. I move my way inside and shut the door.

"Don't follow me Quinn,"

"Then don't walk away from me," I exclaim and she turns around, sighing deeply.

"What the hell do you want from me? Am I sorry that I treated your poor girlfriend like shit? No—besides, she handled herself just fine without you coming to her aid. Am I pissed that you didn't tell me you were_ fucking_ her? No—that is your business," she points at me and I tense at her emphasis.

"Then what the hell are you so angry and spiteful about?" I ask her, walking closer to her and she turns her head away. She gets ready to walk away from me, but all I can do is grab her by the wrist.

"She isn't right for you—there I said it," she replies, pulling her wrist from my grasp. I pull her back by the shirt and I can tell she's getting annoyed by my need to keep her in one place. "Let go of me Quinn or you'll regret it," she warns.

"What are you going to do Santana? Hit me? Trust me, even I know you're not capable of doing that to me," I challenge and her eyes grow dark. Her muscles in her face tense and all I can see is her fury running its course through her body, but even through all that—I don't listen to her threat. I push her further until I feel my back hit the brick wall of her apartment. I gasp in slight pain, but I feel her body pressed against me and my arms now trapped over my head by her right hand. Her grasp is tight and I hiss at her strength.

"Don't push me," she whispers, feeling her breath close to my lips. Her being this close has this tug on me and all I feel is dizziness until my judgment is clouded.

"You don't have the right to tell me who is right for me," I respond back quietly. She brushes her lips against mine as if she knows that she has this hold on me that I can't let go of. I thought it was gone, but as I stand here trapped in Santana's grip, I know it was just hiding underneath.

"You obviously knew she wasn't, otherwise you would've called her a long time ago," she counters back and a part of me believes she's on to me. She knows exactly why I didn't call in the first place and it wasn't because I didn't think she was right for me, but because I knew I could have someone better—someone I wanted. She's standing in front of me with her lips mere centimeters from mine, with her body flushed against me, and even in a fit of rage, my heart still beats a million miles a minute when she's around.

"I know exactly who's right for you Q and I know you do too,"

I gulp. "Oh yeah? And who is that?"

As she nearly closes the gap, her breath mixes with mine, and in my lips, before closing that gap between us that I so desperately craved for, she utters that word I've waited to hear since we met.

_Me._

**x.**

**So that's it and I had a question about who my favorite Quinn was by a Guest. Now as you can tell, I've incorporated several of Quinn's personalities from the show, at least I think I have, in this story. The personality I love about Quinn the most is when she's independent. I think there is a fine line between being in a relationship and being independent, then being without someone and being independent. You learn to be your own person while still having someone, and I think Quinn hasn't mastered that part yet. She relies too much on the people she's with romantically and it causes her to lose herself, so definitely Quinn when she is single on the show is my favorite Quinn because she builds herself up as an individual. However, in the story, I didn't want Quinn to lose herself with Santana and Caroline, so I feel like she still has that independence, like she doesn't need them to make her happy all the time; they're nice to have, of course, but they don't always need to be there all the time. That's basically what kind of independence I'm referring to. She can get through her day without getting completely distracted by them, but when the work day is over she can call one of them or meet one of them somewhere, and just be with her.**

**I hope that answered your question. I would've done it privately, but there was no option to PM you. Anyway, take care guys and I hope you guys enjoyed it again. It wasn't easy to write, but I tried my best.**


	11. Chapter Eleven

**So guys this is a short chapter mostly because it needed to be ended where it did and you guys got a chapter yesterday. Basically, you guys need to respect the journey and some are; others aren't, especially most of the ones not logging in. I can't tell you all personally what I'm doing and explain my logic because you guys refuse to let me, so instead, I reached out on my Tumblr. It's the first post, read it, and it explains everything. This chapter is ending where it is. YOU WILL NOT LIKE THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY FOR SOME REASONS! There is the warning, HOWEVER THERE WILL BE A TIME JUMP NEXT CHAPTER BY A YEAR THEREFORE KEEP READING TO FIND OUT WHY. There is another warning. I feel like if it's not in caps people will get hostile, so there is your warnings now. Please understand that this is suppose to be confusing for you guys because it's all confusing for Quinn; you're going along this whole thing with Quinn. She isn't perfect on here and she isn't perfect on the show; people make mistakes and jump to conclusions everyday. I know I do religiously; it's not a good thing, but it happens. So read the chapter, hopefully it clears some things up. There is a sex scene that starts instantly, so just letting you know now. **

**Enjoy.  
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_Chapter Eleven._

My mind went into a haze; _into a blur_, when Santana's lips attached to mine. I thought when I chose Caroline to fill that insecurity that I felt that Santana wasn't going to want to be with me was the right thing. I truly did, but as our lips stay connected and the urgency to make sure I feel her, I feel her anger; her all, I know I was wrong. I can't forget Santana that easily; not when I love her.

She tugs me up the wall pulling me up under my backside. I groan into her lips, wrapping my legs around her waist. She tugs at my jacket, throwing it to the side forcefully, before tugging at the hem of my blouse that I wore from work. I hear a few buttons hit the wood flooring, before she pulls it off my arms.

I replace my arms around her neck, trailing my fingertips along that skin. She shudders and I feel my back get removed from the bricks; thankfully. I tug her shirt off her head as she carries us to her bedroom, before tossing me down on her bed. She stands there breathing in and out hard, looking down at me. I feel my heart racing as if trying to make its way out of my chest under her gaze.

She runs her hands up my bare legs to the skirt I'm wearing, before tearing the skirt away from my body, letting it fall easily to the floor. She climbs back on top of me, letting her body cover mine completely. I sigh at her warm skin touching mine and our lips connect yet again in a fierce kiss.

I tug at the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down to her knees as she tosses them away. I realize then that she wasn't wearing any underwear. I moan at the feel of her completely nude body against my just barely covered. I need more.

I flip us over and straddle her waist. She runs her hands up and down my sides as I unstrap my bra, tossing it away somewhere in the darkness. She stares up at me and for once there isn't an ounce of mysteriousness. Her eyes are telling me all I need to know. She's looking at me like I'm the most beautiful woman she's ever seen and that's exactly what I wanted. I know I don't deserve her—I don't.

She sits up and places her hand behind my head, and pulls me back to her lips. She silences my thoughts with it and we're back to this unspoken course. She turns me over slowly and slides the last bit of fabric that keeps us apart, then lowers her body back to me and just when our body heat connect, we both let out what seemed to be breaths of relief.

She lowers her lips under my ear and sucks gently at the pulse point. I trail my fingertips up her spine as her hands reach my breasts, cupping them almost too easily for my liking. I groan at how she's working my body and just when I think she couldn't feel any better she attaches her full lips to one of them.

"San," I shriek and she continues her ministrations as if she never heard me at all, letting her right hand slide down my side and in between us. She rubs tight circles between my folds and I shudder at her hand being in such an intimate place. I've imagined it for so long, but to actually have it sends jolts of gratification through my body.

"Please," I say without even realizing I said it, but she listens. She's always been a good listener. Always managed to make me happy, even if I didn't know it would to begin with; she always had a method to her madness. I missed her. _I miss us_. The friendship we have is strong; something so unbreakable. Neither one of us needed someone else, but I'm never going to think that what we had was enough—I needed more from that friendship or I couldn't stay friends with her. I love her way too much. It's why I thought I could save us by being with someone else.

I don't deserve Santana. I don't even deserve Caroline. _I deserve to be alone._

Santana enters her fingers inside of me and slowly pumps them in and out. I rock my hips to her movements and I find myself building up a lot faster than usual. I moan loudly and tug at her hair as she continues her assaults on my breasts. I move one of my hands between us and Santana notices instantly, raising her hips up a little so I can move further closer to my destination.

She stops her actions on my breasts to look up at me and see as I enter my own two fingers into her. She bites her bottom lip, but starts rocking her hips into them instantly. I start moving them at the same course as hers. Our eyes stay on one another—never once have I felt so connected with someone. I may have thought that Caroline was the best I ever had, but with Santana—right now_; it doesn't even compare. _

We're not just having sex to me. This is me making love to her and she doing the same.

I feel the buildup coming closer and closer till my mouth drops open and my eyes screw shut. "Open your eyes," I hear her voice for the first time. I open them up and they connect right back to Santana's, and just like that wave after wave forces me over the edge into oblivion, with Santana following soon after.

She lays down on my chest and I wrap my arms around her slick body. I run my fingertips over her back as to get her breathing back to normal. She sighs deeply and I can no longer hold in what I'm feeling for her.

"I'm so in love with you Santana," I confess for the first time out loud into the dark room, but she doesn't respond. She doesn't say anything.

Her eyes have closed and she's fallen asleep.

**x.**

Waking up the next morning in Santana's bed was different. It meant that I have to get back to reality. Last night didn't go as how I planned. I planned to yell at Santana for being so rude to Caroline then go home; I didn't plan on having sex with her—kind of goes out of left field doesn't it? Still nevertheless, maybe it was a good thing it happened. Santana and I obviously are on the same page, otherwise we wouldn't have slept together, but that means I have to end things with Caroline.

I didn't intend on this to happen, I really didn't. Santana and I were friends; best of friends even, and I didn't want to jeopardize it by my own feelings if she didn't feel the same way. As I've told myself a million times over, if she didn't feel the same way, we couldn't be friends anymore—we just couldn't. I can't walk around knowing she doesn't love me the way I love her and everything be fine. I can't walk on eggshells if she told me she had a date with someone else—what made her so special to have Santana, but not me? I can't do that. It'd break my heart, but I suppose that's probably how she felt when I told her that Caroline was my girlfriend. Wow I really am a bitch. I cheated on Caroline with Santana and now I'm going to leave her not even a month into the relationship to be with Santana. Caroline was really nothing, but a…rebound, really?

I look around the room to see Santana is no longer in the bed. I sigh, knowing that I've made a mess of everything. I should've just told Santana to begin with. I still need to talk to her about the woman I saw at her house with the paper bag. I bring my legs up to my chin, closing my eyes to take a deep breath so I can calm my mind.

I turn over and see a note laying on the night table next to the side I slept on. I pick it up and see Santana's penmanship on the sticky note. I smile at her simplicity. The littlest things she does never seize to make me smile, so if she is in some trouble, I have to help her. If drugs are something she is doing, then we'll figure something out because I can't give up on her—I just can't. I'm in too deep now.

_Q,_

_Meet me at our coffee shop. Use the spare key to lock the door._

_San,_

I get up as soon as I read the short letter, grab my clothes and get dressed. I know it probably would look ridiculous to walk out in the clothes I wore the night before, but people do that in New York all the time. Before leaving I return to the night table to grab the key she left and walked to the door, and locked it on my way out.

I place the key in my coat pocket and make my way to the subway, so I can hop on in route to our coffee shop. I smile at the thought that Santana will be waiting for me, like old times. I missed doing this with her, before the whole misinterpretation.

I walk up the stairs and see her instantly through the window, sitting at one of the tables. I smile at her presence, before walking inside with a ding—there is a bell above the door. She looks up at me and I pull my coat off, getting ready to lean in to kiss her, but she turns the other way.

My eyes widen. _No, don't do this to me. _

"I ordered your usual," she says quietly and I take it from across the table. She doesn't make eye contact with me; instead she just sips her coffee distantly.

"I'm breaking up with Caroline," I tell her the first thing that comes into mind. She looks up at me and looks lost, so I continue. "I want to be with you Santana. I always have. I just thought you didn't feel the same way, so I wanted to save our friendship by not telling you,"

"Don't do that," she replies softly. I stop in the middle of my ministrations. She looks away, taking a deep breath, before looking back. "What happened last night between us? It shouldn't have happened. It was a mistake to do what we did, but I don't have feelings for you," she tells me and I feel my whole world crashing down in front of me.

My mouth drops and I blink away the tears that threatened to spill over my eyes. "I saw you—you—I know you love me Santana. I saw it," my voice cracks and she turns away, shaking her head to deny what I saw.

"Tell me you don't love me to my face then. Tell me you're not in love with me," I tell her and she turns back to me. I see her eyes glossing over and she looks right into my eyes.

"I'm not in love with you. I didn't want to hurt you, but—," I cut her off, by getting up from my chair and standing over her. I grab my coat furiously and put it on. "Quinn—," I hold my hand up to silence her.

"No! No, just stop. Nothing you can say will make this any better. This is why I didn't want to tell you how I felt for you; to avoid this shit. I saw that woman show up with the paper bag at your apartment that day we went out, and I just knew that was the last straw,"

"Whoa! What woman with a bag?" She stands up confused and I look away to hide the redness that's appeared over my eyes.

"I don't know. She could me your drug dealer for all I know and you know what maybe you not loving me is a good thing, because why the fuck would I want to be involved with a druggie? I was willing to, you know, I was willing to look past it because I'm that much in love with you, but you don't understand that. I'd give you my all—my heart—my everything, but you can't," I'm bawling now in front of her; in front of customers and I walk out as she follows in suit. I know she is because I hear her footsteps and the last thing I wanted was to embarrass myself further.

I turn around. "Fuck! This is so like me to fall for someone who doesn't love me back! It's happened my entire life, just add another one to the list, but that's what I get, right? I'm a cheater, I'm a fucking terrible girlfriend, and person. I don't deserve anybody," I yell at her and she stands there deflated as she should.

"You're not a bad person Quinn," is all she says and I shake my head furiously.

"Fuck you Santana. Just fuck you. Don't call me or try to talk to me," I say hurt and turn down the street to get away from her as quickly as possible. When I get a few blocks away, I stand there and just let the tears fall. I tried to avoid this and when I got what I wanted I had it tossed back in my face. I guess it really is what goes around comes around; _karma_.

Santana is out of my life for good. I have done a lot of fucked up things, but I didn't fuck someone that loved me and tell them it was a mistake. I know one thing I have to do though, and that's telling Caroline what happened. She deserves that much because she really is an amazing person inside and out; I don't deserve a person like her either. I don't expect her to stay with me and I'm most certainly not going to ask her to; that's up to her, but she at least deserves to know that Santana and I are no longer friends, and we did sleep together. She even deserves to know that through all of this, Santana still has my heart.

**x.**

I walk into her office and I know that it probably looks a little bad for her, but I didn't have anywhere else to go. I'm instructed instantly to her office and I knock on her closed door, feeling the eyes on me at my lack of composure.

I hear the heels clicking on the other end of the door and it opens revealing Caroline in her work attire. She blinks a few times in confusion. She looks me over knowing instantly that I haven't changed since last night and I didn't want to explain all of this out of her office.

She opens the door wider and lets me in, shutting it behind her. I look around her office and it looks nothing like the _Law & Order_ type you'd expect. In fact, her office looks much like mine with her wood desk, bright from the large scale window.

"Quinn? Why are you dressed in your clothes from yesterday?" She asks bringing my attention back to her and I turn to face her. I fiddle with my fingers in nervousness. This is so hard, but even in high school when I did this, I never had to tell any of my exes what I did, someone would always just blab it out.

I take a deep breath and let it out. "Ly—there are things I need to tell you," I begin quietly and she walks slowly into the middle of her office, sitting down in her chair by the window, crossing her legs to prepare herself for what I'm about to say.

I plop down on the couch and sit far away from her. She could tell that what I'm about to say is bothering me and her instincts want to kick in, but she's refraining herself. She knows what I'm about to say. The lack of a change of clothes, the guilty expression; the whole thing screams _cheating_.

"You're amazing and any woman would be lucky enough to have you—I am so lucky, but I don't deserve you," I begin, looking up at her. She sits there unfazed and silent, letting me continue. "I intended on going to Santana's to tell her how rude she was to you last night, but we sort of fought and it turned into us—sleeping together," I whispered the last part out of guilt and I know she'll be hurt by it. I don't think she loves me, but who wants the person they're dating to cheat on them? _Let alone so soon_.

She looks down, her composure less together and I know I'm the one to blame. She doesn't say anything, but lets it sink in so she can process her next move. She licks her lips and finally looks up, her eyes gloss over, but tears aren't shed. "So that's it—you're leaving me to be with her? I mean it's obvious you two want to be with one another, so I can't stand in the way of that," she tells me and I look away, shaking my head furiously.

"No," my voice cracks, letting my tears spill over for the third time today "I love her with all my heart and soul, but she—she doesn't want me," I whisper to her, finally looking back up at her. She's sitting there watching me with pain visible on her face. "I don't blame her either. I cheat and I'm a bitch; I'm a coward—it's what I've always been," I continue. "I don't deserve either one of you, but me coming here isn't asking for forgiveness, so we can be together. This is me coming to you because you had a right to know what I did and even though I'm not speaking to Santana anymore, I'm letting you go too," I conclude, getting up from her couch as I wipe my eyes to look a little more presentable when I leave.

I start advancing towards the door, when she speaks: "What if I don't want to let you go?" I turn around and I see her rising up from her chair to advance slowly towards me. I look away in confusion. Why after what I did to her she'd still want to have anything to do with me, let alone be with me?

"I'm not asking you to love me Quinn. I know that's a part of you that I just can't have, at least not now, but I want to try because even though we haven't been seeing each other long, I know, in my heart, that I could fall for you and with each passing day, I can feel myself gravitating to that point," she says, wiping my falling tears with her thumb.

"I'm a piece of shit," I grumble and she shrugs thoughtfully.

"Maybe, but the heart falters sometimes and your heart obviously falters when the one it belongs to offers you the chance to have them, even if it's for just one night," she exclaims and I nod slowly. Maybe she's right about having Santana for one night;_ one fantastic night_. I'll never forget it, but my heart strings tug in pain at the thought that it's all I'll ever have—just that night, and I'll never see her again.

"Nothing will be the same," I respond back and she shakes her head, turning away to walk around her desk to sit in her chair.

"No it certainly won't. I'll have to learn to trust you, and you know what? Maybe we were moving too fast for our own good. We'll take things slower, if you still want me that is," she suggests and I look at her in disbelief. If I still want her? It sounds like it's her who cheated, not the other way around.

"I mean I'd like to see where it can go, but I don't think I'll be able to get over Santana that easily," I confess and she looks down. I know this is hard for her to know she practically has to compete with someone who isn't even in the picture anymore, but the truth is, Santana will always be in the back of my mind, whether I want to deny it or not, Santana is pretty much going to be my deciding factor in my relationships, even if Caroline doesn't work out. That's the mark Santana has made on me and she'll never be able to understand exactly how much she has affected me, because she just doesn't care.

"I want to at least try," she breaths out and all I can do is nod because in reality, I don't want to be alone. I hate the idea of being alone, even if I deserve it and if this perfect woman is waltzing into my life, telling me she wants to try and be with me—forget what my heart wills for, then so be it. All we can do is try, but I doubt it'll make much of a difference.

_Only time will tell._

**Yes so I hope things got semi cleared up. I know some of you will be like "wow Caroline seems a little too forgiving for someone who only dated her a month? I would've been like 'fuck this bitch'," well to clear this up before I get it, Caroline hasn't forgiven her. She just hasn't, but she doesn't think Quinn is a terrible person. She agreed with her when Quinn called herself a 'piece of shit', because she felt like she needed to know she was angry. Caroline wants to work things out with her because she thinks she has more to give. With Santana out of the picture, she hopes to win Quinn's heart. It's not something that doesn't happen. I did that a lot with my last girlfriend. She cheated on me twice and I stayed because I thought we had more to give. Someone asked me on Tumblr if I model these characters after me and my experiences, the answer is yes, ESPECIALLY HERE, so if you guys think these last few chapters are hard to believe, then guess I'm a liar, but I happen to have had these experiences quite often and they work themselves out. So with that said, I don't mean to be hostile to you guys, but don't review disrespectfully. I don't appreciate it, and I only get pissed off; you don't want me pissed off because it makes me want to leave writing all together, and I don't want to do that. So please just if you don't like something, say it nicely (I PREFER YOU SAY IT TO ME DIRECTLY SO I CAN RESPOND), and we'll work through it.  
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**With that, please review and I'll hopefully have another chapter for you shortly.  
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	12. Chapter Tweleve (End of Part I)

**Author's Note #1: **_Hey guys, I know it's been a long time, but I've had a lot going on. I have a lot of personal issues to deal with at home, I'm working on looking for a second or full time job, I'm dropping out of college, and starting to work on getting fit again. I'm dealing with a lot on my plate at the moment, but I need you guys to continue to be patient with me. This isn't a huge update, but I was told not to throw it in a year later, which was a great suggestion by Arie. I incorporated as much as I could without being too over the top. You'll see what I mean in a few. There will be an Author's Note at the end of this and I'll explain more about what's going to happen within this story from now on. So hopefully you guys enjoy this chapter._

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><p><em>Chapter Twelve.<em>

I couldn't go to work after I left Caroline's office. I knew she was upset, but I'm glad she didn't give up on me in a way. I mean maybe what happened between Santana and I was a blessing in disguise. Maybe we just weren't meant to be and that Caroline is possibly the person I'm meant for; at least that's what I'm trying to tell myself.

I find myself walking on Broadway. It's like my feet led me there on their own accord because I don't remember deciding on stopping into the theater. I hear music as I step in and frantic tapping motions on the hard flooring of the stage. I pull the door open and see the bright lights with several dancers pushing through a routine. I lean against the doorway as I spot my best friend do a one handed cartwheel. I always envied how easy it was for her to do that move, but she's always been a better dancer than me. It always made me question why she never got Captain and I did.

"Alright very well done ladies! Take a break," the music has stopped abruptly and the choreographer yells up at the stage. Each dancer separates and I see Brittany immediately hug some of her other friends. I smile at how carefree and happy she looks. She always said that dancing was a passion of hers and that one day she would be dancing for the rest of her life, thus far she's succeeded.

She hops off the stage and I didn't even realize she saw me in the back until she enveloped me in a hug. "Hey—sorry I'm really sweaty," she breaths out a laugh and I return a smile as best as I can. She has a towel in her hand, dabbing her wet skin as much as _she_ can. "What's up? You never come here," she says and I never realized how much that stings until now.

I've never once visited her during rehearsals. I've seen her on Broadway—premiere to be exact, but never seen the work she stresses so hard to make perfect until now and I know it's because of my own selfish needs. Am I that horrible of a person?

"Uhm—it's nothing. I kind of just started walking and didn't stop," I shrug and it's a stupid answer because I know she'll see right through it easily. She eyes me concerned and I know she's already figured it out. She reaches out and runs her thumb under my left eye—when I started crying again, I don't know, but she knew I wasn't okay.

"Britt? When I told you about Caroline how did you really feel about it?" I finally ask, sitting down in one of the chairs. She sits down next to me and puts her feet up on the seat in front, showing off her long legs in her short shorts and multi colored sneakers. She dabs her face again and sighs deeply.

"Honestly—," she starts and I turn my attention fully to her face, watching it contort to confusion. "I was confused because I knew how much you loved Santana. I just couldn't wrap my head around how you could go from loving this girl so much to dating someone else, but it wasn't my business to ask otherwise because you're my best friend and whatever reasons you had to not be with her was your own. I just want you to be happy with whoever you're with," she explains and I look down at my hands in my lap, nodding frantically as if she was repeating them into my ear at that moment.

It wasn't enough for me to hear that answer because she's right. I let my own personal thoughts take over my will to be happy, and now here I sit next to Brittany, wondering what I've done to deserve one woman to not give up on me, and another to betray me. The worst part of it all is that I still love the one that betrayed me, while the other; as fantastic as she is, is left helplessly watching me cry over someone else. How is that fair to her?

"I slept with Santana," I look up at Brittany's blue eyes, which have now widened at the confession. She looks around in disbelief, but at the same time this was my track record. I did cheat on my high school boyfriend with his best friend. Granted I was a little tipsy, so my actions were a little more carefree; however, that doesn't explain my actions this time around because I wasn't under the influence of anything; just anger and adrenaline.

"I know it was wrong, but how can something so wrong feel so right all at the same time?" I ask her because I really needed my best friend right now. She places her feet back down and turns towards me. She grabs my hands and gives them a small squeeze.

"I'm not the best at words, you know this, but I can't answer why we do the things we do. You love Santana, we've known this for a while now, but you're with Caroline and I guess that's where your actions become a little forbidden. You're not in love with Caroline though, so if Santana loves you then what's stopping you from getting the girl you love?" She asks and I look down, pain instantly washing through my entire body becoming easily visible on my face. I guess that's where karma bites me in the ass, right?

"She doesn't love me," I whisper, fresh tears forming and falling almost instantly. I feel her arms wrap around me as I begin to full on sob in the theater. I'm a mess, maybe even a wreck, and I've never had one person have this much of an effect on me. She's broken me—dismantled me, and all I can do is weep.

Brittany doesn't say anything though. She just holds me and even when her break was up, she still held me because in some way I was more important to her than memorizing her dance routine. She took me home after a few minutes of me sobbing into her embrace; she showered in my bathroom after placing me in bed, came out and crawled in with me. She held me until I fell asleep.

_That's why you're my best friend. _

**x.**

I woke the next morning with a pounding in my head and I was sure I looked like Hell; maybe even worse. The other side of my bed was empty, but it smelt like fresh berries, which is normal for how Brittany smells, and a hint of coffee. I smiled warmly at the aroma that filled my nostrils, before letting that great feeling of a nice stretch fill my entire body. I groan as my muscles and bones crack in all the right places, before getting out of bed.

I advance down the hall to the kitchen to see Brittany over the stove, coffee in my favorite mug, water and two pills I imagine are Advil.

"Mmm," I moan carelessly, before taking the large white pills in my hand, gulping down a large amount of water to follow them down my throat. It cools instantly the burning and dryness that fills it.

I instantly grab Brittany's attention and she smiles softly at my presences. She doesn't say anything and I'm positive she is keeping it silent mostly because she doesn't know what to say. She just continues to cook after acknowledging me and all I can do is sit on the barstool closest to the kitchen, sipping at my coffee as I wait for the food.

The fact that I've ended up here is a bit surreal. I go from falling in love with a girl I met by chance on a subway, and by hiding those feelings I've created an even bigger conflict because I got someone who is amazing; someone I could potentially fall in love with in the future involved. How is that fair? I not only toyed with someone else's emotions, but I've had mine toyed with back. I guess it really is karma. Even with that, I feel like I don't deserve it, yet at the same time I do.

I deserve as much happiness as the rest of the world. I deserve to have love. Life can be a beautiful and rewarding experience, so why hasn't the girl of my dreams swept me off my feet yet? And yet, maybe they already have. Even though, Santana claims she doesn't love me; which I'll accept whichever way she wants to throw it at me, I still feel like my heart is meant for her. I want to try and work things out with Caroline too because Santana and I aren't ever going to see each other again. It's like when you have your first love, how they'll always remain special and hold a place in your heart; that's how Santana will always be, even if we aren't together. I can accept that. What I can't accept though, is missing out on someone who actually does want me in their lives and is willing to love me unconditionally. Who knows though, maybe Caroline isn't the one for me, but the least I could do is try.

Brittany places the breakfast she's made on plates and pushes one over to me. I'm ready to dig in when I see how blackened the bacon is and how undercooked the eggs are. I grimace at the plate, recalling all the other times I've stared at Brittany's cooking. She tries, I'll give her that, but she certainly is no Bobby Flay.

"I know I suck," I make eye contact with her and she is smirking at me with her arms crossed. "I actually got Dunkin Donuts earlier. My cooking was to hopefully make you smile," she adds and I start chuckling as she tosses the bag on the counter.

"Well thank you. It worked," I smile and she shakes her head. At least I never had to tell her that her cooking sucked ass since apparently she already knew. This is why I love my best friend.

"I know yesterday was really rough for you and you know I hate seeing you sad, so I do anything to make you smile," she explains and I tear up slightly at her admission. Why we've never dated, I'll never know, but she really is an amazing person to have in my life. Of course, I remember that I look at Brittany like my sister; my better half and well how awkward would that be to date your sister?

"So what are you going to do?" She asks biting into her doughnut. I shrug to her, even though it's pretty clear I've made up my mind on what I'm going to do, but plans can change. I see that clearer every day.

"Take each day one day at a time and hope for the best,"

**x.**

Yes take each day one at a time, and no doubt I hoped for the best, but not even a month after I removed Santana from my life, I needed her back in it. I didn't care that she tore my heart a part, I mean sure it stung like a deep wound, but I wanted her at least in my life. I promised Caroline we wouldn't speak again and thus far I've kept true to that statement, but more and more I find myself thinking about the girl I loved more and more each day. I'd be at work and a certain thought would just come into my senses.

Caroline and I were doing better though. We've been on a few dates since our conversation, but never took the route of being physically intimate, aside from the occasional kiss. It's okay though, I'm not pressuring her or anything and I'm in no way misunderstanding why she isn't all over me like a panther like before. I broke her trust and it will take me awhile to gain it back. She's keeping me at a brief distance, because who better to know about breaking the boundaries of your body than I? It's uncharted territory; that once you break through it—_you're vulnerable_.

I'm walking down to the subway and subconsciously I look around. I've been doing this for quite some time that it's become almost natural to look for her. I've done this even when she was in my life, but I find myself doing it every time I go down there and even when I don't need to be, I still look just to see.

But I never see her.

And maybe that's how it's supposed to be, but I can't bring myself to believe this. So I get on an unusual, yet still very similar route. I sit down and patiently fiddle with my fingers. I'm nervous to even just get a glimpse of her. Is she okay? Is she happy without me even just her friend? Is she dating someone, and if so what is she like?

I scan the bridge that overlooks Brooklyn. It's as dirty as I remember, but she's always been happy living in here. Maybe I'm just not used to that kind of life. I've lived on a farm my entire life and moving to New York City alone was a stretch.

As the doors open, I feel the gusts of wind overpower my will to think. It should be snowing soon and knowing Santana, she would've wanted me to go home for the holidays, so I planned to and I'm thinking of bringing Caroline with me. I've told my parents about her and needless to say they were shocked when I told them about her and not a certain brunette instead; it is what it is though; they'll just have to get used to it like I have to.

I walk down the street to the brick apartments that contain Santana's place. I walk up the three flights of stairs and turn the corner to 16C. The paint on the green door has been chipped tremendously, but that's always been normal. I take a deep breath to calm my stomach and gulp, before racking my knuckles against the wood.

I stand there for a moment, taking in deep breaths to prevent myself from shaking. I anticipate her arrival to the door, but nothing comes. I scrunch my brows together; does she hate me for cutting her off?

I knock again and continue my waiting game, but again, nothing comes. I sigh in defeat and I know for a fact that she should be home by now. It's almost six and her classes usually last till the early afternoon. She has to be in there, unless she really did find someone else in such a short time.

When I started crying I'll never know, but the tears slowly made their way down my cheeks before I could even react. I sniffle and wipe my covered sleeve against my skin.

"She's not home," I look up and see Santana's neighbor. He's a strong looking guy and from the sounds of it Italian. He is unlocking his door and pushing it open, before the recognition kicks into my mindset.

"Um…do you know where I can find her?" I ask and he looks up. He has piercing green eyes and dark slick hair, with a duffle bag on his shoulder, but definitely not a Jersey Shore type. He'd probably kill them in seconds.

"She went on some vacation or somethin'. I saw her with her suitcases, but that was like a week ago," he shrugs and I look down, nodding slowly.

"Was—was she alone?" I ask almost too quietly to the point where I thought he may not even hear me, but he did. He sighed deeply and tossed his bag into the open door of his apartment. He looked over at me and shrugged, like he didn't know.

"Yeah she was alone," he finally said and I looked up to meet his gaze. He looked like he knew our entire history and maybe he did with the times I came over here till the last time I was here. The walls can't be that thick, and I blush at the thought of him possibly hearing us; _me_.

"Thanks," I say quietly, before turning and walking down the stairs. I can feel his eyes following me as I go, but not in the way that most people would think. He may be a big guy and a possible meathead, but his lingering gaze was most definitely out of concern. He had to know something about our situation; no neighbor that's heard the talking and yelling, saw the visiting, and is here now, won't have some indication of what's going on in their neighbor's life.

I step back out into the street and I sigh heavily. If she's gone, then there's no point in me even trying to look for her. She's on vacation; I should just let her be.

I walk back to towards the subway, when I stop to glance at the coffee shop. I smile softly—_our coffee shop_. It has so many good memories there, yet so many bad ones. I miss walking up there and seeing her waiting for me with a nice warm hug to give me. I miss our crazy conversations about work, family, and friends. I just miss being silly with her; she makes me feel like a kid again and I love having a best friend like that. Brittany made me feel like a kid too, but it was a different kind of feeling. With Santana I felt like I was a child, but with Brittany I felt like a high schooler or like I was in my rebellious years of college.

My feet took me across the street though and I was in the door, hearing that little bell over it. I scan the place and my memories of being here flooded back. I walk up to the barista, and instantly see it's the same student from the first time we were here.

"What can I get for you?" She smiles, then lets it falter slightly. "Wait you look familiar," she points to me and to think I thought I had an unforgettable face.

"Yeah I came in here with your Professor all the time," I said, knowing she knew her name. She had to since she had a huge crush on Santana anyway.

"Oh right! With Professor Lopez!" and there it is. "Yeah I thought you guys were totally banging each other," my eyes widen at her words and I clear my throat of the uncomfortable nature of this conversation.

"Yeah I'm so upset she quit after our semester was done," I look at her questionably. Wait, she quit her job? She's on vacation? Where the hell did she go?

"She quit?" I ask softly and her student, Ellie stares at me in confusion.

"I assumed you already knew, but yeah, she went on some retreat thing for sick kids in Costa Rica. She always talked about going somewhere like that to us in class, but never had the means to, but one day she just told us she was leaving right before finals and that our review will be made for us, but someone else will administer our final," she explains and I look at her in disbelief.

Santana told her students about her wanting to do charity work, but never me. We were extremely close, why wouldn't she tell me about this? My head starts to hurt and I ask her for my usual, wanting to end this conversation.

When I get my coffee, I step out and head to the subway. My head is spinning with the knowledge I just learned today. Santana's really gone and I have no way of even locating her. I have no idea when she'll be back so I can apologize for being an asshole.

Is this really the end of our friendship? Is this really the end of seeing her in my life? My heart hurts to think of never seeing her again. I can try again in a month, but then what? She may still be gone by then and no one knows when she'll be back since she's always been incredibly secretive. I doubt even her mother knows how long she'll be out of the country for.

I hate this. I wish I didn't react the way I did. I wish we never slept together. I wish my feelings for he never existed.

_And yet what an awful bunch of lies those are._

__**End of Part I  
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><p><strong><span>Author's Note #<span>****2: **_So that's the end of Part I. I didn't intentionally plan on making this two parts, but if I'm going to jump it a year from now, then I have to separate it to make it more neat, but also not look crazy. I know this chapter lacked Santana heavily and that's the point. This story is in Quinn's POV. so if Quinn doesn't see her, neither do you guys. This chapter was mainly about her and Brittany, which I wanted to touch more base on. Arie threw that suggestion at me and I couldn't agree more. There isn't enough Brittany in this story for her to be considered Quinn's best friend, so they needed more time together. _**  
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_Santana is gone though. She'll obviously be in Part II, but Quinn won't officially see her again till a year later. She just gives up trying to find her because she has no resources, but keep reading to see if those feelings resurface or not.  
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_Also thank you guys so much for the reviews, they are well appreciated. To answer some of your questions, obviously the story is NOT DONE! I would have told you guys if it was, don't worry I'll give you a heads up when it's nearing its end. I may even be planning to publish this into a book, so if you guys are interested when it's completed, let me know and I'll give you all the details when I figure it out more thoroughly.  
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_Till then keep reviewing, keep reading, and if you have any questions, comments or concerns, leave a message on Tumblr. I don't check my messages on Fanfiction that much, so best place to reach me is Tumblr.  
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_I have another one now dedicated strictly to fitness, so if you guys are even remotely interested in it, then follow it. Both links will be below. So till next time my readers. :)  
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**Personal: lacksubstance. tumblr . com**_  
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**Fitblr: bestowingreatness. tumblr . com  
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	13. Part II: Chapter One

_Part II: Chapter One_

_One year later…_

It's Friday morning and I wake up instantly to the sun beating through the pale white curtains of our apartment, and by our I mean Caroline and I. It's different and certainly not like mine; I missed mine, but when she gave me a small box on Valentine's Day with a spare key inside, I assumed she was just giving me a key to her place, but when she gave me this heartfelt speech that stated how much she loves me and misses me when I'm not around, I knew she was asking me to move in.

I've grown to love her, believe me I have. I can even see myself marrying her because I love her that much. She's someone I could see a true future with and I think that says everything, doesn't it? She's absolutely amazing and whenever it comes down to starting a family, she'd be the most fantastic partner. She's silly and can always make me smile, I'm sure children would be no different in this circumstance.

Still though, we are career women and that always came first. Her job is demanding as is mine, but we manage to come home every night to one another at reasonable hours. I look forward to the moments I do get to spend with her, whatever they may be.

My family adores her too. They always seemed to like the women I keep bringing home, but the men they never liked. I guess it's understandable, I picked men with zero ambition whereas with women I always knew I strived to find intelligence as well as drive within, plus they needed to be sexy, which so far I've done well for myself.

I finally groan and turn over to look at the farther night table. Caroline always leaves earlier than me, just so she can get her work done faster and not stay late. I notice the roses and I know they weren't there last night, and I didn't leave them for her, so she must have. I slide over to her side of the bed and take the note into my hand, smiling at her penmanship. The way each letter is so articulate, but not to the point where it's over accentuated warms my heart. She doesn't do it on purpose because I've seen her write, she does it in a fast pace like others, it just comes out like perfection.

_Quinn,_

_Today is our one year anniversary. I'm sure you already knew this; if not then I'm going to cry :(_

_In reality though, I know you've been busy with this new client that you have coming into the company, but you always manage to come home to me at a reasonable hour. I couldn't be more proud of my wonderful woman. I love you with all my heart and I have something planned for tonight_. _Don't worry it's nothing too fancy like our first date, so dress however you wish. Meet me in Central Park after work and I'll take care of the rest._

_I love you. See you soon._

_Lynn_

I fold the note back down with a growing smile forming on my lips. I stare at the bouquet of red and white roses, before pulling them closer so I can smell the aroma. I close my eyes for a moment and sprawl out on our bed. I'm lucky, I truly am, especially that she's stuck by me when I wasn't sure about myself; _my feelings_.

Our anniversary snuck up on me though. Granted I knew when it was, but it's like my birthday; I forget just how close it is. Thankfully though, I did remember it last night, so I was able to get her a little something, something.

x.

"Oh my God!" I'm standing in front of Brittany at the department store, wearing my gift for my amazing girlfriend. Sure it may be a tad insensitive that this gift is going to benefit me as well, but I know better. I got her something else as well to compliment her and be for her own benefit.

What no one really knows is behind that pencil skirt and girly exterior of hers, she's really quite the tomboy. She walks around home in boxers, her hair up and a tank. She watches basketball and football; Lakers are her favorite, which is why I got two tickets to opening tip off for the Lakers game. I know she'll be excited; I am anyway. She's gotten me into both sports, even though I cheered at football games, our team sucked so bad that I couldn't even pay attention to it.

"Is it too much?" I ask unsure, turning in the three way mirror. Brittany walks up to me and examines the entire outfit, placing her finger under her chin.

"Something's missing," she concludes and I look down in confusion. I'm pretty sure I'm wearing everything that comes with it. It's basic enough; bra and panties made out of lace. She begins to smile and instructs me to lift my leg up, so I do and she slides a griddle up to my thigh.

"There you go. She can practice for when you two get married," she tells me and I chuckle softly, growing flushed at the thought. Caroline has never talked about marriage or children and I never had the heart to bring it up because I'm worried I'm the only one on that chapter. I know though that she's kind of wrapped up in work and just being with me as we are than being married and possibly having children later in our lives.

"I doubt that will happen for awhile," I mumble under my breath, suddenly feeling defeated. I don't blame her though because of what I did a year ago, it's hard to believe she's even still with me.

"Don't doubt it. The woman is madly in love with you, I mean she tells you at least a dozen times a day," Brittany states and I roll my eyes at her dramatic response.

"She does not," I protest just as a text comes in. I pop the text open and immediately smile.

_My Sweetheart:_

_Thinking of you. I love you 3 _

"Gee I wonder who that's from," I meet her eyes and she's smirking, knowing it's obviously Caroline. I roll my eyes at her playfully before turning to get ready to change and get into my real clothes.

"And how many texts has that been?" She asks through the door and I sigh, choosing not to respond.

_I refuse to tell her that that was lucky number twelve._

x.

I walk up to my office later than usual, which I already told my boss prior that I'd be late. She understood, thankfully. I have my bag from the mall in my purse and I mentally thank myself for remembering to bring the larger one as I finally reach my door. I open the door to see a white envelope on my desk and I pop it open to see the two tickets I requested. I smile with happiness as I see my Lakers tickets. I now have everything ready for my part of our anniversary, now it's time for me to speculate what she has planned.

I sit down in my desk, beginning to rock back and forth. I sigh as I ponder the thought. Caroline is one of those kinds of people that like to go all out for her girl. It's not a bad thing, if it was, our relationship wouldn't have gone past our first date. I love that part of her, but it is nice when she isn't trying to be fancy and perfect, but it's hard for her to not be perfect.

My phone begins to ring and I slide it open as her name pops up. I smile instantly and answer. "I was just thinking about you," I say as I hear her chuckle softly on the other end.

"I think we have some girlfriend telepathy going on," she jests and I nod, narrowing my eyes softly as if she was there in front of me.

"So what can I do for you miss?" I ask and she sighs as I go to turn my computer on to start my day finally. Most of my files are being done by Tina, mostly because she offered, but I still have to do _something_.

"Can today just be over so I can have you tonight?" She whines and I smile, laughing at her childish antics.

"Baby you have me every night, remember?" I type in my password and all my documents on my desktop show up instantly.

"I know, but tonight is special. It's our one year anniversary and honestly I'm hoping I'm getting more than the typical bling bling," she replies and I begin to laugh harder.

"Did you really just say "bling, bling"? Babe I will tell you that I didn't not get you such a thing; that's your job," I chuckle and joke playfully.

I can tell she's nodding using the same eye gesture that I did prier. "Oh right because I'm the man,"

"Yes, I mean do you see me wearing boxers everywhere?" I shrug as I pull up one of my newest and important clients, then begin pulling up their products to brainstorm what direction I want their advertising to go.

"Valid point," she responds. "I'll let you go though. I'll be imagining you naked while we're away from each other till then,"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah whatever you say stupid. I love you, see you tonight,"

"I love you too," she hangs up with a laugh and I'm back into my work. It was a nice little distraction for the time being, but I do need to work and so does she. I know her job can be a lot more stressful than mine, but I'm so thankful she still manages to have time for me and never comes home upset then takes it out on me. I know that happens sometimes, but I'm happy I don't have to deal with it. We talk probably more than we should though, but none of our boss's seem to be complaining, providing we get our jobs done and right.

Speaking of which, if I don't stop thinking about tonight, I will never get this plan done by tomorrow, when this day is just another day that's passed.

x.

I step out of my office after running everything by Tina, who was rushing me out of the place faster than I was trying to rush myself. I'm not sure why one year anniversaries are really such a big deal. I guess it is a huge milestone that you survived each other's presence long enough. After six months, I was relieved she stayed with my weird quirks, well I considered them weird, she said they're adorable and actually quite normal, but I never had anyone stay long enough to tell me it's okay to keep my closet light on because I liked something semi bright. As if the city lights weren't bright enough right? See a weird one!

My heels click against the pavement and the sun has already set, but making my way to Central Park was something I was looking forward to. Usually I found it dangerous to be out in the park when the sun went down, but then again, I've never really been out long enough to see if it was actually okay. I hoped whatever was planned was different though.

Our first date was nice, sure, but perhaps it was…too nice? The wine and the dinner itself was breathtaking, but I guess I wanted something more casual, especially the way I'm dressed. It was Friday after all, which meant I could dress in jeans and a simple shirt today, so I hope it was good enough.

I stepped through the gates of Central Park and am in awe at what I see. The lamps are lit, the fountain is shining and I wonder what the hell I was so worried about. It's beautiful at night and definitely a lot clearer aside from some couples walking hand in hand with their coffees. I smile as I watch them pass and sigh deeply waiting for Caroline to show up.

My presents lie tucked away in my purse, but waiting for her felt like never ending, until I feel pair of warm gloves over my eyes. I recognize the scent of tropical fruit anywhere, before she slides her hands away and rests them on my hips. I turn in her arms and see her dressed just as casual as I do; I breathe a sigh of relief.

"You look beautiful," I smile and roll my eyes, before placing a kiss on her cheek.

"You always say that, even when I just woke up or I'm sick," I tell her because it's true; I can never be ugly to her and I guess perhaps that's a good thing.

"Because you're always beautiful, even with snot running down your nose," she makes motions with her hands and I laugh, bumping her in the side, as she captures my lips with her own. She's wearing a knitted beanie; my favorite one and a leather jacket with knee high boot heels. "I love you," she whispers as she pulls away and I peck her lips one last time.

"And I love you," I conclude as I stand back at her side, placing my hand into her own as we stroll along the path. "So what is it that you have planned?" I ask her as we continue walking and she just juts her eyebrows up and looks around.

"Well I know how you're like eighty something at heart, so I decided to take you here," I smack her playfully for calling me old, then look over at the stage to see a jazz band set up, playing a peaceful tune. I smile warmly at it as we walk closer. I watch how each player puts their heart and soul into each note they play when I spot a table set up for two. Some people sitting on the grass are listening, but no one is sitting in that one single table. I look back at her and narrow my eyes, she just shrugs towards it without a word.

I walk over with her following behind me and we sit down after the guy watching it gets the okay to leave. "You reserved a table?" I ask her curiously.

"Well I more like stole a table since we're the only one with one," she jests and I shake my head; to think I thought our dates would stop being so overly fancy. Just because we're dressed casual, doesn't mean the situations change, but still I know she likes going all out and I love the fact that she does try for me.

The band finishes and the few people along with us clap for them. They bow their heads and continue into another song instantly. I smile over at Caroline as she watches them play. I know she likes jazz as much as I do, but I won't let her know I said so.

"For you miss," I look up and see the guy who was watching our table with a large pizza box. I look at her confused, before she pulls out some cash to give it to him.

"Here's some extra for waiting by the table. I know you have other deliveries," she says and he nods smiling before running off to his bike to finish the rest of his deliveries. I laugh at her as she pulls some paper plates out that he left and pops the pizza open.

"Pizza my dear," she says and I shake my head amused. I guess things have changed a little; there is no wine.

I take a bite of the pizza and watch the band play. It's pretty remarkable that our date didn't need to be super elegant for this anniversary to be special. I think she somehow knew that the fanciness of the entire ordeal isn't necessary and she just wanted to throw me off by making me think that our anniversary dinner was going to be that way.

"If you're thirsty," she says as she ducks under the table to pull out a couple of sodas. I laugh as she pops them open, knowing we're not much of beer drinkers. "They're chilled," she smiles a cheesy grin and I thank her as she hands it to me.

"Tonight has been pretty fantastic," I comment and she nods in agreement.

"It's only the beginning you know," she states and I look at her curiously. Her face is completely unreadable and definitely serious to the point that I feel my chest restrict. I don't know why though because nothing from that comment meant anything negative.

"I love you Quinn Fabray," she grabs my hand from across the table. "We've been through some highs and lows, but all this time I knew I was right for not letting you go. We're amazing together and we complete each other in a way I never imagined. I asked you to move in with me because I couldn't get enough of you. I didn't want to spend a moment away from you, aside from work, of course, but even then, I can't stop thinking about you. Who knows though, maybe this is the honeymoon phase everyone keeps talking about, but within this year, nothing has changed between us. We're better than we ever could've imagined," she gets up during her speech and walks around me. My reality truly sets in where this is going and I begin to let emotions take over.

"Quinn you're the strongest, intelligent, amazing woman I have ever had the pleasure of being with. You deal with my stupidity and whit, as well as my dirty laundry, figuratively and literally," I chuckle at the last part through my tears. "I can't imagine a life without you now. You're my soul mate and I don't want you to slip away, so will you do me the honor of being my wife and maybe one day the mother of my children?"

I sit there frozen and all I can think of is a life without her and honestly—I can't. I can't imagine my life without her. I've learned to fall in love with this woman, who's stuck by me when I knew in my heart I didn't deserve her. _She's the amazing one_.

"Yeah—," I clear my throat. "Yes I will," I tell her and she smiles, wrapping her arms around me, kissing me deeply. I suddenly hear people clapping and I giggle along with her. She has tears in her own eyes and I know I just made her the happiest woman in the world right now.

"Oh," she chokes, pulling the ring out of her pocket and I giggle as she pops the box open revealing a shiny, rather large diamond with a white gold band; I know it's definitely gold—_it's Caroline_. She places it on my ring finger and I smile widely, before kissing her again. "I love you. I love you so much baby," she whispers into my lips and I know I feel the same, but too overwhelmed to tell her back right now—_I'll tell her tonight_.

"This ruins my present," I sniffle as I pull away from her kiss and she looks at me confused. I lean over to my purse and pull out the envelope. She takes it from me and opens the flap, just looking inside enough to see what it is. My smile grows as her eyes widen.

"Oh I picked an amazing wife!" She yells putting it in her pocket as she kisses me again but more passionately. I knew she'd like her present, but I definitely think her proposing beat my present by a long shot; she'd never tell me that though—_she's too happy to anyway_.

"Oh and I got something else," I tell her as she leans in, but I place my pointer finger on her lips.

"What else? You're making me happier and happier by the second," she whispers closer to my face as she holds me by my waist.

"Mmm, in which way?" I tease and she has a glint in her eyes that tell me it's in other ways than just outside emotions.

"Every way possible," she responds and I turn her around so people don't see, showing her the lace bra that I bought earlier today. Her eyes widen hungrily and I smirk at her reaction.

"It's a matching set," I sing teasingly in her ear, nipping the lobe that peaks just under her hat. She shivers and I chuckle softly.

"What better way to celebrate the engagement," she breaths out and she's right. Nothing would make me happier than making love on my one year anniversary to my _fiancée_.

**So that's the beginning of Part II. Santana will be back and things for the happy couple will not always be like this obviously. I hope you guys continue to read and enjoy though. I'll let you know when the story ends, so no one speculate when it'll be over. Things from Part I that were not revealed will be revealed in here, but just keep a look out. I didn't know what else to write in this first chapter, but the next chapters will hopefully be longer and not take as long. Till then keep reviewing, I appreciate the past ones and if you have any comments say in the review or go to Tumblr. My URL is my penname.**


	14. Part II: Chapter Two

_Part II: Chapter Two_

It's been a week since Caroline proposed to me and I have to say, it hasn't felt—well magical. I guess I always imagined that when it came to time to really be engaged to someone, that I'd feel different, like what you're supposed to feel when you turn twenty one or something. It just feels the same in all reality, like it really was another ordinary day.

We haven't talked about setting a date or going into grave detail on what we both wanted, and maybe that's been the main problem. Nothing has been set, which means I just got another piece of jewellery.

I did tell my family and Brittany though, but of course they already knew it was going to happen since Caroline apparently asked for all their blessings, and she went behind my back with Brittany to help pick out my ring. I like the fact that she tried hard to cater to exactly what I was looking for and tried to make sure the important people in my life were okay with it. I'm old fashion and I've imagined my partner always doing that when it came down to it.

"So you see I think we need to incorporate your original design and product to insure we'll get the buzz about the newest product you have in store," I'm in an important meeting with our new client who is developing a new cereal that is supposed to be much healthier and beneficial to your digestive system. It's supposed to taste better and keep you full longer; much like _Special K_ and well the product is quite effective; we always have to try the product before distributing advertisements for it.

"I like the direction you're taking this in Miss. Fabray. Let us know by Friday what you have in store for commercial and we'll set up another meet up," their president states and I nod with a wide smile as he stands, shaking my hand as him and the rest of his team move their way out.

I sigh a breath of relief though, having had anticipated this meeting for quite sometime, but with trying to manage keeping Caroline happy and our anniversary, I just was afraid I'd screw up. She shouldn't feel like a distraction and honestly she isn't. She's great, but I definitely lose focus sometimes when it comes to work.

My phone vibrates and I take it off the consulting table to see a text run through from Brittany. I slide it open and read it carefully.

_Britt Britt:_

_Let's meet for lunch at the bistro down the street. I want to catch up and talk. 3_

I text back instantly that I would obviously, before heading out to my office to grab my things. I let Tina know I'm heading to lunch and to screen my calls till I return, then make my way to the elevator.

x.

Brittany's already there by the time I get there and she's already gotten us a booth. I smile her way as she returns it, but it looks more strained than usual, which worries me.

"Hey, did you order yet?" I ask her as I sit down and situate myself. She shakes her head as she looks down at the menu.

"Nah, I just got here," she replies as I push a piece of hair behind my ear. I lick my lips as I scan the menu quickly finding what I'd like to eat.

It doesn't take long for us to receive our drinks and food; thirty minutes tops and I'm instantly digging into my food.

"So you set a date yet?" She asks as I take a bite. I shake my head since I can't physically answer, but as I'm finishing my bite, I watch her carefully. Her eyes and demeanor is totally of and honestly it's scaring me. She's never like this; so cold and standoffish.

"Britt?" I finally ask and she looks up meeting my eyes. "What's wrong?" She looks away at my question down at her food to pick up a bite from it.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine, really," she assures me, but I don't believe it and I know it's definitely because of the way she said it. She could be just tired, but even tired Brittany is different than this one. Something is really troubling her and I have to know what it is; she's my best friend, I have to help her.

"Britt, I know you better than that," she stops mid bite and finally puts her fork down, ready to come clean and tell me what is truly bothering her.

"Okay, well you're not going to like it," she begins and I feel my stomach churn at those words already. I place my fork down as well, wiping my lips with my napkin to show she has my full attention. She sighs deeply and glances from side to side, before leaning forward. "I went to see a friend from a previous production. She's going back to school so she can have something to fall back on, but anyway, I saw Santana on the campus with some other girl. They looked like they were really into each other Q,"

My heart stops. Santana is back in town and she's in a relationship. I can swear the color from my face rushed away and I've turned pale. My breathing has gone irregular and at the mere thought of just her name alone; I'm back where I was a year ago.

"Are—are you sure?" I ask hesitantly. This can't be true. Things are falling to place and I'm settling down with someone who loves me, why would she just show up back in my life? Well I guess technically she hasn't, but still, I know she's back from her charity work now. She's back in the city; _with a girlfriend_.

She nods. "Yes, this is why I didn't want to tell you," she retorts and I look at her with my brows furrowed.

"I don't doubt that you love Caroline, but looking at the way you're reacting to just the mere thought that Santana is just a train ride away again, you're back to square one and I can tell you're just settling for Caroline, when you're still hopelessly in love with Santana," Brittany spills to me and I feel the blood rush back into my face, and not in a good way. She's insinuating I'm practically using Caroline to get over Santana, and that's not what this is. She's being ridiculous.

"That's not true and besides Santana made it clear she didn't want me. She fucked me Britt and then threw me away like I was nothing. If anything, Caroline saved me from being alone and bitter. She showed me someone could possibly give a damn and actually love me," I feel the tears well up and my voice crack at my admission. Brittany watches me slowly breakdown with remorse, but I don't want it. I don't want her to think I'm weak and I actually care or anything.

"If you're over her, then tell me. I'm your best friend Q, just tell me the truth and it'll be forever between us," I wanted to tell her that I was over Santana. It's on the tip of my tongue, I mean I could say those simple words, but every time I said it in my head, it just never left my mouth.

I lean back in my seat in the booth, shaking my head. "It's been a year Britt," I whisper, looking down at the table because I felt ashamed to look at my best friend in the eye. She knows my truths and I didn't have to tell her. "Why is it that I still feel like this? I haven't really thought about her since I tried calling her those few times while she was gone. Why can't I just—quit her?"

Brittany sighs and grabs my hand from across the table as my tears make a stream down my cheeks. "You never exactly got the closure you needed from her? Maybe this is a good thing Quinn. Call her, talk to her, and maybe you can get on with your life, like she has with hers," I finally meet her eyes and she stares at me with sincerity.

"What do I tell Caroline?" I ask with a mere whisper because the last time I talked to Santana, I ended up sleeping with her, so I know Caroline doesn't trust me with her of all people.

"You're calling her Quinn. That's it," she replies and I nod; she's right, it can just be a phone call and I don't have to talk to her again. That should be easy enough.

x.

I went back to work after our conversation and when I gained some composure. I feel so stupid for getting the way I did. I have an amazing woman, why is my past coming back to get back at me?

I like to believe things happen for a reason, but this is just going too far. I was content with my life and how it's been turning out for me within this year, honestly I feel like God is trying to tell me something. Am I somehow not meant to be happy? Or is Caroline really not meant for me.

I turn on my side in the middle of the night and stare at Caroline's sleeping form. She looks so peaceful and stress free. She's beautiful and I've always thought that about her, but Brittany is right. If I want a future with her, I need my closure. My love affair with Santana in my head has to stop and for real this time. I can't bury it inside anymore and think I can forget about her like that.

I sigh and carefully wriggle my way out of the bed, stepping on the hardwood flooring of our bedroom, then tiptoe my way out of the room and on our balcony. It's windy out as usual, but the loud sirens rumble the worst under the late night sky.

I hold my phone up and scroll through my contacts until I find Santana's name. The highlighting stays on her name for a moment as I just look at it, with her face in the corner. I've been able to just not think about her when I'm looking through my phone to call someone. She was just another name in my phonebook, but now—now looking at the letters that spell it all out for me, I know she's just not someone I'm ever going to forget.

I hit the dial button and it rings instantly, which is better than what I got almost a year ago. The phone wouldn't even go through, then I remembered she was out of the country. I lick my lips as I lean against the railing until I finally hear it stop.

_"Hello,"_that groggy tone of voice instantly sends wave after wave of butterflies to my stomach. This closure thing is going to be a lot harder than I think Brittany and I expected.

_"Q,"_my breathing halts for a moment at the realization that she knows it's me. I take in a deep breath finally ready to speak.

"You—you kept my number?" I ask in disbelief. After all we've been through. After I ran out on her at the coffee shop with the last words "fuck you", she still kept me in her phone.

_"Yeah, of course I did. I hoped that you would call eventually,"_her voice has that sleepy undertone and it melts my heart. I know I'm in trouble and I shake my head at the thought of this overwhelming feeling.

"I tried to find you, but your neighbor said you left for some vacation. I even had a thought to try to find your mom, but I kind of forgot where she lived, so I—called, but the phone never went through. I went into our coffee shop after leaving your apartment and your old student said you left to do charity work in South America," I explain so she knows I didn't forget her in the beginning, but she was gone this entire time, no letters, no international call or anything for me to try to mend things with her. She could've reached out too, yet I somehow look like the bad guy because I'm moving on.

_"Oh yeah, I got back a month ago,"_is all she says and I nod even though she can't see it. I knew it was really late, but there was so much left between us that needed to be cleared and as I'm about to try to explain my late phone call, she speaks first.

_"I'm sure you have a lot you want to say and no doubt we need to talk. I just want to tell you how sorry I am about what happened between us. I got carried away and I was angry you kept your relationship with Caroline practically hidden from me, but I get it now. I just hope what I did, what I started didn't ruin your relationship,"_she explains and I bite my bottom lip as I listen. What do I tell her about Caroline? Do I tell her we're engaged? Is that even her business?

"Caroline and I worked things out. We're happy, but you have nothing to apologize for. I'm to blame for all of this because you're right, I didn't tell you and it was because in some way, I felt guilty. Like I was cheating on you in some way, even though we weren't together and no matter how bad I wanted us to be, I know we're never going to be and I've accepted that," I exclaim back no matter how much it pained me to say it. Some part of me still hopes that we'll end up together, and that makes me insensitive and fucking disgusting. I have my fiancée laying in our bed, thinking things are going fantastic, yet I'm talking to the one woman who will probably always have my heart. Fuck!

_"It takes two Quinn, so I'm as much to blame as you were. I'm glad you guys are doing well though. You deserve to be happy,"_I hear the strain in her voice in her last words. Santana has never been one to show much emotion, but on the phone right now, it's plain to hear that she's regrettable.

I clear my throat. "We probably shouldn't dwell on whose fault it is, so let's just start where we left off before all of that," I think we owe it to ourselves to not hold the baggage of the past anymore; Santana taught me that valuable lesson. Talking to her though has made me realize I still want her in my life. I know Caroline won't really like that, but I don't want to lose Santana again.

_"I can accept that,"_she laughs slightly.

I smile at her response. It gets silent, but I can already feel the air clearing between us, but this phone call has made me really want to see her.

"We should get coffee at our coffee shop tomorrow, like old times," I suggest twisting my neck as it grows tense.

She puffs out air and I can hear a content breath leave her lips. _"Our coffee shop,"_she says in a dreamlike state. _"I'd like that, but um—how would Caroline feel about that?"_she asks hesitant, which I don't blame her. I already planned on not telling Caroline that I'm going to see Santana because all this meet up is, is a friendly thing that we always did. Nothing bad will happen, just us being friends like before.

"It'll fine, don't worry. What about your girlfriend?" I say in a teasing tone, even though it hurts to the core that she's with someone.

_"Huh? Oh wait, how do you know I'm with someone?"_She asks and what do I say? The truth because I didn't do anything wrong; this is Brittany's doing.

"Brittany saw you with this girl on campus,"

_"I see—yeah, she and I have been friends for a while, but decided to give the relationship thing a go when I came back,"_she says and I won't let her upset me with that realization.

"Well—you can tell me about her tomorrow," I reply to the best of my ability,

_"I'd like that,"_she exclaims, then wish each other a good night, before I head back inside.

I tiptoe back into my room and Caroline is back where I left her as I slip my way back into the bed. I sigh contently finally ready to get a good rest of the night's rest, when my phone vibrates. I slide it open and see Santana's face popped up on my screen. I smile instantly at the words, putting it back and finally closing my eyes, never letting my smile leave.

_San:_

_I'm glad you called tonight. I missed the sound of your voice. I can't wait to see you tomorrow best friend (:_

x.

The next morning came rather quick and I was glad I'm running to the coffee shop because I definitely needed it after spending part of the night lying awake deep in thought and another part talking to Santana. I can't wait to see one of best friend this morning. I missed her this last year, but anyone can understand why we needed to be a part anyway. I may still love her with a huge part of my heart, but she was one of my best friend's first.

I walk up the steps of the subway and immediately see Santana pacing back and forth in front of the shop. I smile widely at the sight of her. She looks the same and I don't know why tears begin to well up in my eyes; perhaps a mix of emotions are circulating, but I run up to her anyway.

She looks up since I imagine my heels make a ton of noise. She busts out in a large toothy grin and I wrap my arms around her neck as she lifts me up in her arms by my waist. I missed our embraces and just her scent; everything she is.

"Shit I've missed you," she mumbles into my neck and I hold her tighter, licking my lips.

"I've missed you too," I smile as she puts me back down. She looks me over and shakes her head in what looked like amazement.

"You look beautiful Q," she compliments and I blush under her gaze.

"Really? I think I look the same," I tell her and Santana just shakes her head. Her hair is still long and moves with the wind freely as it always had.

"Nah, you keep getting prettier and I keep getting uglier," she jests and I push her with my hip, making her chuckle as she guides me inside the shop.

That familiar bell goes off and we walk up to the barista, ordering our usual, then wait for our order to be called. We remain silent during this time to just savor the moment we have with each other till it goes away, at least for today. My heart pounds at having her so close to me again and I know I'll have to get used to our new, yet old standing relationship. She has somebody now and I'm still with Caroline, things have changed and that's just all there is to it.

We grab our coffees and make our way out to a table outside. She slides one of the chairs out for me and I acknowledge her with a smile, before sitting down as she goes and does the same on the other side. I take a sip of my coffee as she does the same, before folding her arms across her stomach.

"So how have you been?" I ask and she nods slowly, showing her dimples.

"I've been really good. I loved being out there with the kids, but I'm happy to be back in the city I love. I got a career teaching online classes for NYU, but yeah," she says distantly and I smile at her. She seemed as carefree as she always been, but much more laid back. One thing is for sure though, she seems to be living each day to the fullest.

"And you found love," I point out and she cocks her eyes up, before smiling softly, breathing contently.

"Yeah—," she draws out in a memorizing tone. I've always wanted my name to leave her lips in that tone. I've wanted her to be in that dream like state because of me, and even after a year it still hurts that I'll never get that. I can be happy with the intimate moment I did share with her though, right?

"So—uh tell me about her," I ask curiously because I am curious to know what this girl is like. It may make me a little jealous, but I definitely think if we're trying to rebuild our friendship, I should know.

"Well—her name is Rachel, we've just gotten really close over the years. We went to high school together and I don't know," she laughs uncomfortably and I giggle at the way the situation actually requires her to give details in her life. She's adorable, always has been.

"Wow, you've always been a woman of many descriptive words," I say jokingly and she just laughs, shaking her head, sipping her coffee to hide her embarrassment.

"Yeah, but I thought you liked a little mystery in your life," I blush under her response and hide my reaction behind my coffee now, before pulling away.

"Touché," I quirk an eyebrow and I'm happy that we're being so comfortable with one another again. It was as if this year didn't separate us at all. Life is just about to get easier, at least I hope so.

**So that's the next chapter and I need to address a lot of you, before you guys go and review. Firstly, thank you so much for the positive reviews. I appreciate the optimism from most of you and even the death threats if it doesn't go your way.**

**Now down to business, I don't appreciate the Guest that said "you write like the glee writers", and then try to be a little punk to my readers. I don't disrespect you nor do they, so who the hell are you to disrespect us? Caroline has been mentioned prior in the story, if you haven't read it from the beginning, then that's on you. I've had a direction going for this story from the day it was posed to me. I've talked to the girl who gave me the prompt about this story from the beginning and she approves of the direction, and it's in Quinn's POV. , therefore for all you know Santana could be getting ass twenty four seven, you don't know what is going on. Also! I never said she "LEARNT" to love Caroline (which is going out to others who claimed I wrote that) I said she has "GROWN" to love Caroline; totally different. It's like when you grow to love any other person. I didn't ask for your negative review and your crude response, because I don't need it. So keep your negativity to yourself, and let my readers who actually care to finish reading my story peacefully alone.**

**Thirdly, depending on the relationship, a year into a relationship for an engagement is fairly accurate. My sister got engaged after a year, then married a year later. My friend (which should not even count in my opinion) is engaged after dating a girl after four months. However, it is clear that she buried her feelings for Santana because Caroline was there to get her through her heartbreak. Caroline is pretty much her savior. So yes to the person who said she's pretty much settling for Caroline, it's true, but we're in her head, and she's trying to convince even herself that she truly loves Caroline enough to marry her. You can't measure someone's tolerability to get over someone though, but like I said it's obvious she never really did get over her and just assumed she was.**

**So with that said, I hope you've enjoyed Santana's comeback. There is more and definitely the drama will be in full effect. I have changed parts of what will happen in the story, but do not fret; this direction will benefit the drama effect. So thank you to majority of you for the reviews and I thank you all for standing by me.**


	15. Part II: Chapter Three

_Part II: Chapter Three_

It's been a few weeks since Santana and I reconnected. It honestly makes me wonder how I managed a year without her sarcasm and humor to fill my day. We still meet at our coffee shop because that place will always hold memories; memories good and bad; things that not even important people in our lives got to see. Caroline still doesn't know we've been talking everyday and anytime she sees me texting, I just tell her it's Brittany. I know it's wrong to hide our friendship from her because it already makes me look guilty, but I know she will make me choose and that's something I will not do.

Our friendship has been strictly platonic since we've spoken again, even though I still wish for more. It's unfair, I know this because I am engaged to a wonderfully, career driven, woman who takes care of me. She sees the best in me, even though I don't deserve it and yet even when I was deceitful; she stayed.

Then there's Santana; the woman I will never have, but wish to love me. She's pushed me to my limits and through my past to resolve for the future. She's been my rock through all my hardships and even was the light when everything grew dark for awhile. She is the reason I believed in love and yet she still isn't mine. What does Rachel have that I don't that made Santana take a chance on her?

I try not to think about it because that makes me spiteful and now I really don't have to. I told Caroline that I felt like we weren't even engaged, like our anniversary was amazing as what she said during the proposal, but I still felt like we were just together, but not bound by a promise to walk down the aisle together or have a family one day. She understood thankfully and we talked.

We decided to start looking at dresses to get an idea because in reality deciding a date was just too much right now with her big case coming up. She didn't know just how long the trial will last being that it was as high profiled as Casey Anthony, which lasted a few years.

So now we are walking the mall with her arm draped around my shoulder. I people watch as we stroll and she points out everyone and starts telling me stories about them like she knows their lives, creating her own little back story. It's kind of endearing really because every story she comes up with sounds like a character's novel, where they either have some romantic back story or it's tragic but ends happy.

There is a mother with her child, she is probably no older than I and she begins whispering that she loved a man in high school and he loved her back, they promised one day to live happily ever after:

"She was the cheerleader and he was the star quarterback. The Championship game rings in and she's cheering for him and he looks to the sidelines, meeting her gaze. He smiles that perfect smile and points to her to show the winning pass will be for her. The formation begins and the last play rings in and he throws to his receiver, he catches it and runs till he hits the in zone; _touchdown!_" she yells in a whisper. We've stopped now and sat on a bench, so she can finish the story. I watch the young mother smile widely as her daughter slides down the small slide.

"She jumps up and down with her friends. He is cheering for his teammate; his teammates cheering for him. They make eye contact and with such adoration in their eyes, he mouths to her _I love you. _In his whisper of love, she could tell this man was the man she would marry. She gets distracted by one of her friends and for a moment that was all it took. She hears calling for his name and she turns back and sees he's laying on the ground, eyes shut. She runs to him and gets to his side; he's stopped breathing. That night he passes away from a condition that went overlooked in his physicals. She's devastated for the rest of the year. He was the town hero, but his legend lives on in the eyes of that little girl," she finishes and I have tears in my eyes when I look up at her.

"Are you sure you picked the right field? I think you should've been an author not a DA," I sniffle, wiping my eyes and she chuckles softly.

"Yeah that's pretty depressing, isn't it?" She scrunches her nose and I nod furiously, hoping that for that young woman's sake that Caroline's story isn't true.

A man comes up and the little girl screams "DaDa!". He's dressed in an EMT shirt and the woman leans over to him, kissing his lips and that's when I turn to Caroline. She shrugs and I shake my head. "You are a depressing soul," I sigh, before getting up and she gasps half-heartedly.

"I thought I was being romantic," I hold my hand out and she grabs it as she stands up to my level. I peck her lips to let her know she can be, before walking towards_ Fredrick's_. I haven't been in here in awhile and I just like browsing through things.

"Hey babe, how about this?" I look over at her and she has pulled out a set with crotchless panties and a see through bra. Her smile is wide and hopeful. I really hope she doesn't think I'll wear that.

"That's sexy. You should try it on," I wink and her smile drops.

"Aw I was hoping you'd wear it," her childish undertone comes full view as she puts the set back and as I'm about to look through another set, I bump into someone.

"Oh I'm sorry," I breath out, picking up her stuff by the hanger that she dropped.

"No, no you're fine," she chuckles and I hand her the items. Something stops me in my tracks though; she looks familiar. She's brunette, rather short, brown eyes. I've seen her before, but—

"Hey Rach, are you done looking?" I look up and my eyes are met with darker pools of brown. It feels like the life has been sucked out of me and suddenly the store is ten times hotter than it was before.

"Baby, I found the perfect—Santana?" Caroline comes up to my side and Santana next to the other woman, who I'm now assuming is Rachel. She looks between us, before ending the awkward silence.

"I guess I should introduce myself since you all know each other. I'm Rachel, Santana's girlfriend," she smiles and slings her arms around Santana's waist. Suddenly I feel this tug on my heart strings. I never thought meeting Santana's girlfriend would truly hurt this bad.

"Hi I'm Caroline, Quinn's fiancée and this is Quinn; she's an_ old_ friend of Santana's," Caroline pipes up and shakes hands with Rachel, placing emphasis on old as if she is trying to keep it that way without directly saying it.

"Oh yeah I've heard a lot about you Quinn," she smiles cheerfully.

"All good I hope," I mumble at this awkward situation. I never wanted Santana and Caroline to be in the same place again to be honest, but if I wanted to keep Santana in my life I knew it'd have to happen.

"Always," Santana finally speaks and wraps her arm around Rachel's shoulder, pulling her close. I can tell though her single word alone was sincere in her eyes. I realize now that just by looking at her eyes every mystery I ever wanted to know about Santana Lopez can be revealed. My stomach knots with butterflies and I grimace at her.

"So Santana I thought you were out of town," Caroline states getting Santana's attention. She nods in her direction with a small smile.

"Yeah, I got back a month and a half ago," she states as Caroline tries to smile; it's forced and I can tell she really just wants to mutilate the other girl because of our past.

"Well I am going to go try on this thing. Nice meeting you Rachel and it was good seeing you again Santana," she says and excuses herself from the weird circle we created, before pulling me into her for a deep kiss in front of the other two women. I accept it and return it, as she pulls away I smile at her as she walks away.

"I am going to try these on too and I'll find you after, okay?" Rachel adds and leans up to kiss Santana, before walking away to the dressing rooms.

I look down at my feet awkwardly. It was just us now and for once it felt really uncomfortable. "So engaged huh?" I look up as Santana speaks and I can see that hurt expression on her face.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It literally just happened like a month ago and I'm still trying to get used to it, that I forget that I am even engaged," I explain and it's true. It's one of the many things I'm trying to work through, while also trying to cope that I won't ever be married to the real woman I've wanted for almost two years now.

"It's not my business, but I think it's a little ridiculous you're getting married to her," she states and I look at her accusingly as she files through a set of bras on the rack to avoid my gaze.

"And why is that?" I ask, crossing my arms as a defense mechanism or just a simple force of habit; whichever way you look at it.

She sighs deeply before glancing back at the changing rooms, I assume to make sure none of our partners are returning yet. She pulls me by my arm gently towards to keep her voice low. "Because I'm well aware that you're still in love with me, now tell me how that is fair to her?" she points back to where Caroline should come out of.

"I've accepted we'll never be together Santana," I hush my voice down and she shakes her head disbelieving.

"I think you have, but you're not over me. She deserves to have your full heart," Since when is Santana Team Caroline anyway? I thought she hated her. I don't understand this woman. Last time she saw her she was rude and disrespectful and now she's defending her heart like their best friends. Where is the logic in any of this?

"Yeah she does, but unfortunately San, she'll never get it," I whisper just as Caroline came up to me, telling me how the set just didn't fit right, before ushering us out of the store, leaving me to just glance at Santana who was left with a defeated yet saddening expression. It wasn't hard to read her face because it said such volumes, but it was definitely difficult to decipher which emotion was more predominate.

**x.**

Sitting outside in the park is something I used to do fairly often. After our run in with Santana and Rachel, Caroline and I did manage to make it to the wedding dress boutique in the mall. I got to try on my fair share, but nothing really stood out that in my heart physically was set on. Perhaps Santana is right though and it showed in the way I tried on those dresses. Granted I know most people go to three or four places until they find the perfect one. They were all beautiful and breathtaking, but maybe my heart really isn't into it because I'm not marrying the right person.

Santana could see right through that, but it didn't matter. Santana and I will never get married. I've learned to accept that, but the fact that she hasn't is very questionable. And yet maybe she has, but is trying to steer me elsewhere. I don't know what she told me in Fredrick's was absolutely confusing and I really can't make sense of it.

At any rate, Caroline got called into the office because of some new evidence that was discovered, so I decided to just walk Central Park for awhile to think and unwind. I probably shouldn't be dwelling on it, but I know this whole altercation with Santana is pushing our friendship down a totally different route. I don't blame her for what she said and I like to believe in a way it was her way of trying to help me, but in reality it just felt accusing, like I couldn't fall for Caroline if I tried hard enough.

I didn't lie to her. I do love Caroline; I do. She's been there for me when Santana hasn't. She was there to pick up the pieces that Santana broke, and yet she is still not the one that I fully want; but Santana is. After the way she explored my body the way the person that someone loves should, she tore me a part by not reciprocating those feelings I had; still have. I can't begin to explain how truly unfair that is to her, but the heart is a complicated notion that no one can explain. It pumps and beats for people we shouldn't even want.

I sigh deeply, closing my eyes and rubbing them in frustration. My wandering thoughts turn back to the engagement. If I tell Caroline that my heart isn't in it, she'll leave me. I'd break her heart again and had I not accepted it, she still would've been heartbroken. I don't want to do that, but either way I'm putting us both at risk. If I marry her when my heart isn't fully belonging to her, then I'm putting myself at risk. If I don't, I'm hurting her, but at least I know there's a chance she'll get over it and find someone better than me. Someone who is willing to give her their entire all.

I sniffle not realizing I've already started crying at the thought. I don't want to feel this way and I don't want to feel like I've trapped her, but I have. All the while, I don't want to be alone with no one if I let her go. She's not a last resort or anything because she's great catch, but that's the point; she's fantastic and I've not appreciating her the way she deserves.

I sigh deeply as my phone begins to beep. I lift it to my eyes as I wipe away some loose tears. Santana's name comes up and she's sent a simple message.

_Santana:_

_Can we talk?_

I text back my location so we can talk because I know we have to. There isn't much I can say to her that she doesn't already know. She knows I still have feelings for her and she knows I'm trying to get over them, so I'm not really sure exactly what she wants to talk about, nevertheless she texts back and says she's just right around the corner and will be there shortly, so now there's nothing left to do, but wait.

After waiting for twenty minutes or so, I see Santana walking up the path in the distance. I stand up as she gets closer and cross my arms over my chest as she finally comes face to face with me. She gives me a tight lipped smile and I lick my lips in anticipation as to what she has to say.

"Where's Caroline?" she asks curiously, darting her eyes around the area as if to scope out if she may pop out in the distance. She should know me better than to have her meet me in public if my fiancée was here.

"She got called into work. I came here to think, what about Rachel?" I didn't need to explain my actions or whereabouts to Santana, but if we're trying to dodge subjects, well two can play at that game.

"She had to take care of some things," she shrugs and stuffs her hands in her pockets as I just nod distantly. "I wanted to talk about earlier before we stop talking for awhile because of the whole conversation," she begins and I bite the inside of my mouth, trying to relieve some sort of tension that's building up inside me, creating nerves.

"I shouldn't have tried to justify your relationship with Caroline. It's not my place nor my business," she states and I eye her curiously, but before I can bite my tongue with my question it spills out like vomit.

"Do you want me to stop loving you?" I ask and surprisingly my eyes remain on hers as they look on with shock visible in them. I know she didn't expect me to ask this, but I had to know for sure. She visibly gulps and sighs, but doesn't respond; it's almost hesitant. What the fuck is going on in your head Santana?

She lets out a shaky breath, glancing down at the concrete then back to me, before nodding. "Yes,"

It's quiet and almost inaudible, but I heard her. I heard her last year and I'll keep hearing those words. A part of me doesn't want to believe that she just doesn't love me, but if she is going to keep telling me that she doesn't and my feelings _must_ go away, then so be it. Of course, it doesn't make my heart hurt any less.

I nod frantically, biting back tears as much as possible. "All right, then this is what I have to do and you need to stay out of it if we're going to remain friends," I tell her quietly and she exhales deeply, responding with no words but just a simple nod of her head.

The conversation couldn't have been more uncomfortable, but I knew there was no way for it to be strictly comfortable. I told her that Caroline would never have my full heart to her face because it belonged to her. I told her I was going to get over her by being with Caroline, hoping that maybe my heart will change its feelings the longer I stay with her. I like to believe though that part of my heart is invested in Caroline. If it wasn't then, I wouldn't be attracted to her or stayed with her as long as I have. Sure, I worry about being alone, but because I know she is completely invested in me, I believe in some way that makes me want to be with her in some shape or form. Unless I've misconstrued what exactly my love is for her; like maybe I love her as a person and her as a extremely caring friend, but not as a lover or partner.

I close my eyes tightly and shake my head, turning away from Santana. "What is it?" I hear her voice and I place my hand on my forehead, a pain in my head growing from all of these thoughts and confusion. I turn around to look at her.

Her face visible with concern, "Why is it that I was perfectly okay before I had you back in my life, like everything made sense, then I have you come back into it and things get hazy again?" I ask and she looks down in almost guilt.

"Do you want me out of your life?" She asks carefully, meeting my eyes again. I know she's giving me the choice and anyone else should say if being her friend is causing this much confliction in my mindset, then my answer should be yes, but my heart says:

"No," I tell her quietly as tears well up in my eyes. I didn't want her gone because I'd miss her too much and that visible ache in my chest would return anytime I'm not with her will appear, and I don't want that. So even if I have to deal with the conflictions for now, then so be it, but Santana is my best friend next to Brittany; therefore, she's staying.

She sighs and nods hesitantly, before pulling my sleeve of my jacket to bring me closer. She wraps her arms around me tightly, rocking me back and forth in her arms. I bury my face into her shoulder, pulling my arms completely around her midsection. Her smell and warmth intoxicates me like usual, but I feel a sense of peace and security; I feel safe in these arms and I always have.

I can't say what the future holds as far as our friendship goes. Where my heart will lead me, whether it be to Caroline completely or still hold on to Santana till the day I die, but I have to try for our sake to just push forward and hope that our friendship can survive my emotions for her.

* * *

><p><strong>So I just like to say thank you all for the reviews. I know this chapter isn't huge, but it was a filler and now that I got my replies from Arie, the story should be running more smoothly. We replanned a lot of our original ideas for this story; however, we're not sure how it's going to end now, so to ask me if Quinntana are endgame, it's hard to say because even I don't know yet. With that said, my life has been complicated, but not overly busy. I just get caught up in things with myself and mental capacity that I just don't have the heart to write because I'm afraid it'll conflict with how the chapter turns out. With that said, I won't be asking for reviews, but I will keep thanking you guys for reading and to the people who take the time to review, favorite, and alert. It means a lot and I guess to the Guest, no hard feelings. I won't fight and it wasn't my intentions to. You're not going to be back you said and that's fine, but if you did decide to come back and see this note, then I just wanted to tell you it's your opinion and that's all that matters. I'm continuing to write because others want me to and I enjoy it, but if you don't like it then it's your opinion and you're entitled to speak it, so there you go and that's it. :)<strong>

**Till next time and hopefully it won't take as long.**

**Sam.  
><strong>


	16. Part II: Chapter Four

**Two chapters in three days! You all deserve it. Every one of you. With that said, mucho gracias and everything you wanted to know is in here. Till next time guys.  
><strong>

**lacksubstance . tumblr . com  
><strong>

_Part II: Chapter Four._

Since Santana and I's conversation, nothing has changed between us. That's our friendship though, when something occurs we just try our best to forget about it. I don't think anyone will truly understand how complicated this all is for me to comprehend.

I think Santana is hiding something. She's not making much sense and to be honest, I go back to that day where she hesitated at the thought of me not loving her anymore. I'm confused, but I can't make her open up to me. It's not as easy as everyone seems to realize.

Still though, being at work was an excellent distraction from everything Santana and Caroline. I am still going back and forth between them, even though it should be no contest since Santana is in a relationship and made it clear, we're friends. I've tried everything to rid my feelings towards her but there isn't anything she can do or say to make them go away. I've been rejected once and yet they're still there, so maybe—I don't know. Everything is confusing.

My phone goes off in the middle of my planning for a commercial and I swear my personal life never stops. Thankfully I have my own office; otherwise my boss would be highly displeased if she knew how often I take personal phone calls.

"Hello," I answer, holding it between my ear and shoulder as I sketch out the last bit of information for our next meeting.

"_Q! I have some excellent news!" _Brittany's cheerful voice comes ringing into my ear so loudly that I had to pull the phone away just a bit. Her enthusiasm radiates through the ear piece of my phone that I just had no other option, but to do that or be deaf in that ear.

"What is it Britt?" I'm curious now because she truly does seem thrilled, whatever it is that she has to tell me. I haven't heard her this happy in awhile, especially since the last time I saw her was when she told me about Santana. We have talked since then, but she really isn't aware that I physically saw the other girl. She knows I called her, but I was brief. I can't tell her that we've rebuild our friendship so much that I've brought myself back in that bubble, I tried so hard to get out of by taking her out of my life.

"_My choreographer talked to some big wing people about my dancing, and they want me to audition for their big Europe tour and not for some show on Broadway, but for a backup dancer spot—for Britney Spears!" _She screams and I drop my pen as she tells me this information.

"Oh my God! This is huge Britt. You've wanted this since you decided that dancing was what you wanted to do for a living! I'm so proud of you," I breath out with a large smile. I really am because no one deserves this opportunity more than Brittany.

"_Thanks, it's not set in stone, but she said I got it in the bag,"_ her excitement dwindling down a tad, trying to catch her breath_. "Only problem is I need a fucking physical and you know how much I hate those,"_

Oh yes I do. Brittany hates hospitals and anything that involves them. She even refuses to watch _Grey's Anatomy_ because it is set in a hospital. That being said, dancing has always been a strenuous job and highly physical that even has cheerleaders, every year we needed a physical to make sure we were fit and our bones as well as muscles were in working order. Brittany always needed me next to her and I never understood why and to this day I still don't, but I knew this phone call would have to do with me helping her out.

"Don't worry Britt. Make the appointment and I'll set it up to where I can be there," she breaths a sigh of relief on the other end and I chuckle at her childish response.

"_Thanks Q. I owe you one," _

She says that, but I think in reality, it's me who owes her more than she realizes.

_x._

Brittany and I walk into the hospital where her choreographer instructed her to one of the best doctor's she knows that does the routine physicals on all of her dancers. I didn't think they would be able to get Brittany in so early; early being the afternoon she called me, but I like to think that if you're pretty high profiled in the Broadway or dancing industry in general, you can make just about anything happen.

Brittany picks up the pen at the front desk with shaking fingers, before signing her name and the time we got in. This girl can do flips and cartwheels on one hand, but she can't go to a physical without feeling like something terrible is going to happen to her? That doesn't add up.

As we're about to sit down, I take her hand in mine to guide her to the seat. "Okay Rhonda can you get Miss Lopez on a line for me," I turn around at the voice and the last name. Anybody of Spanish descent can have the last name Lopez; it's far too common to not be someone else. It couldn't be Santana this person is referring to. And that voice—I know it. I look further down the hall, only a few feet away to see a small petite brunette in a lab coat, holding a file.

I instruct Brittany to just sit down and take deep breaths and that I'll be back before she is called in. She looks confused, but she is in too much of a panic to actually care what I'm doing and just follows my instructions. I walk down the hall to see the doctor, writing something down in her paperwork, before I recognize the face.

"Rachel?" She looks up and her eyes show that I've caught her off guard. She looks like a deer in headlights at my presence. I'm sure me being in the hospital is a little bit of a shock. You really don't want to find people you know there.

"Quinn—right?" She asks hesitantly and I nod, grimacing at her as a sudden smile appears on her face. I look her over and notice she really is a doctor. Did Santana go to a very magnet type of school for intelligent kids or something?

"You're a doctor," is the first thing that comes out of my mouth and she glances down at her attire, before chuckling while holding her hand out to show the obvious.

"It would appear that way, wouldn't it?" She answers semi awkwardly. I don't really understand this whole thing. I mean it is possible she could have been in a residency, but from the looks of her scrubs and her coat; she isn't in any residency at all, but a true physician. There is just no way that Santana has known this woman since high school. Has Santana been lying to me?

"I'm sorry, Santana never told me what you did for a living, so I'm kind of surprised that's all," I cover up because it wouldn't be fair to load all my suspicions on a woman I don't even know. Sure I don't question that their relationship is true, but I think that's only have of it.

"Oh no you're fine. I know I can't possibly look like a doctor, so I surprise everyone. Wait, you're not here for anything serious are you? No injuries or health issues, right?" She suddenly gets worried and _about me_. I look on curiously at this woman I hardly know. She's being concerning and granted she is a doctor and it's just a doctor's nature to express concern, but she is dating one of my best friends that I happen to still have feelings for. I wonder if she knows what happened between us.

"Oh no I'm fine; my friend Brittany is having a physical for this possible job for a tour in Europe. She's a professional dancer, so it's important to her; she just hates physicals," I express and Rachel lets out a deep breath, smiling warmly.

"You're a good friend Quinn," she comments and I gulp at the response. I don't know if hidden behind that smile she can see right through me. That I'm in love with her girlfriend regardless of my engagement; _she's wrong_.

_I'm actually quite the opposite._

"Miss Berry, I have her on the line," I glance over at I'm guessing Rhonda and Rachel nods, before turning her attention back to me.

"I won't keep you up any longer. It was—um—nice seeing you again Rachel," I say before she gets a chance to. She smiles gratefully, then nods in my direction.

"You too Quinn and I'll see you around perhaps," she answers as she grabs the phone from Rhonda. I nod firmly, before turning on my heel and walking away. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in as I make it back to the waiting room.

I close my eyes for a moment, then blink them back open just as I get to the entrance. I see Brittany still sitting there only they've given her a paper bag to blow into. _Oh no, poor Brittany!_

"Honey I'm sorry," I get to her side as I hold her hand. She keeps blowing deep breaths in and out of the bag, before I pull it away. "Britt, look at me," she does as I tell her. "You're stronger than this. Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise. They're only checking to see if everything is in working order, which we know everything is because you're the healthiest person I know—aside from what you eat sometimes, but _besides _that, you're fantastic and you've got this," I pep her up and she keeps looking at me with those fearful blue eyes of her.

"Brittany," we look up at her name being called and she takes a deep breath, getting up as I get up with her. She stops and places her hand on my shoulder to stop us from moving forward.

"I think I got this," she breaths out, before giving me a brave smile. I look at her questionably, but she nods and advances to the woman at the door, leaving me in the waiting room, looking like a proud mother. Weird I know, but what better analogy when Brittany and I have been a package deal for so long?

_x._

I get home my usual time and scan through my fridge for something to eat since Caroline is meeting with some major contributors to the case she's working on for dinner. I understand that she can't always be here, so I'm glad we have something for dinner just laying around.

After Brittany had her physical she came out with a big smile and even a lollipop because she did so well. I chuckled at her childish antics, but I'm proud she overcame her fears of doctors and hospitals this afternoon. I guess in a way that whole situation should be symbolic in my situation in the past and even my right now. I should've fought harder to tell Santana the truth and I shouldn't have brought Caroline in the middle of it. Maybe Santana just never wanted me because I practically overlooked her for someone else. I didn't even try.

I'm suddenly not so hungry, so I just sit on the couch, after pouring myself a glass of red wine and time truly flies when you're just thinking about mindless things. The only thoughts that keep coming back is: _I should've fought harder. I didn't even try._

I sniffle at the thought and maybe right now what I need to do is be alone. Even if I don't end up with Santana, I deserve to learn how to be alone again. I can't be afraid of being alone. My heart aches at the thought, but maybe; _just _maybe this is what I have to do. I have to talk to Caroline about all of this, I mean, don't I owe her _that much_?

"Hey babe," I don't even hear the door open and I take sip of the wine. I'm sure with only a few lights on to keep the room dimmed and no television on, I make it obvious that something is wrong.

I hear the clicking of her heels against the hardwood flooring, before she leans over the top of the couch to kiss my cheek. I don't say anything though and I know she isn't ignoring me or anything; just getting situated before she asks questions.

I'm suddenly thrown into a panic at the thought of telling her what I was setting myself up to do. She has so much going on right now; do I need to add another thing on her plate? What if I'm the reason this case doesn't pan out right for her? What if I leave her and it affects her progress in her job? I quickly stand up as she walks out of the room and I chug the last of wine in my glass.

I walk over to our room as she stands in the doorway. "Hey are you alright?" She asks concerned and I nod distantly, forcing myself to smile.

"I'm just tired. I'm going to take a shower and probably just turn in early," I lie. I'm actually wide awake, but I'm afraid of letting her in on the truth. Yes! Quinn Fabray is afraid of practically everything that happens when it comes to being in love, marriage, and being alone! Sue me! I'm not the only girl out there that is afraid of all of that.

She smiles warmly. "Are you up for some company?" She leans forward and starts kissing my neck, then right under my ear. I close my eyes and instantly she fades away. It's not blonde, but dark brunette; almost jet black. Skin as fair as mine turns tan and slightly full lips turn fuller and my eyes shoot wide open.

I take a step back and breathe out an unsteady breath. "No I really am exhausted," I tell her quickly making my way into the bathroom. I did catch sight of her concerned and rejected expression, before the door shut and clicked from the lock. I really didn't want to be near her, especially after what just happened from her kissing me.

"Shit," I whisper under my breath and turn the water on. Hopefully a shower will relax my tension and thoughts, even though I'm well aware most thoughts are reflected on in the shower. One can still hope though.

I step in and instantly relax at the cascading warmth flowing from the showerhead. I sigh in contentment, before lathering the body wash in my sponge and just washing myself clean, that includes of feelings and dirt—_clean slate_. Then grab the shampoo and dig my fingertips into scalp to get every inch of my hair cleaned.

When every ounce of soap is washed off by water, I turn it off and begin to dry any access water left on my body. I honestly felt much better after the shower and step out, wrapping my towel around my body, before advancing out of the room, like nothing had happened earlier.

What I find though is Caroline leaning against the far dresser, with her arms crossed holding—my phone? What the hell is she doing with my phone? She holds it up in one hand, squeezing slightly, before speaking.

"It began to ring and I thought it may have been an emergency, so I was going to tell you someone was calling, but then Santana's name popped up. I didn't answer it, but you've been talking to her for the last few weeks and you didn't tell me," she accuses and I look at her like a deer in headlights. What do I say? Lie? The truth?

"Before you go and lie to me! It is all in your recent calls and text messages, I mean fuck Quinn!" I jump at her uproarious tone. She's never yelled at me before and honestly I'm just taking it. I deserve it, but where is that hidden high school version of me that used to not let anyone take that tone with me? I used it on Santana that night before—well I won't finish that thought.

"What do you want me to say?" I finally voice. It's not uneasy, but quite steady. I'm not afraid of her, but I have never seen her so angry, especially when it's thrown at me.

"Did you fuck her again?" She asks and suddenly I finally bring out that hidden part of me that I was searching for not even moments ago.

"Don't you fucking accuse me of that," I sneer, before going around her and getting dressed because the last thing I want to do is have this argument with nothing but a towel on.

"Why? You did it before and I wouldn't put it pasted her just because she's with someone now," her voice is venomous and I get that she's angry at me, but the last thing I want is for her to badmouth Santana. She was the one concerned about Caroline's well-being when we started speaking and about the engagement, but now here Caroline is, hating her for something that happened over a year ago when most of it was my fault.

"No I didn't _fuck_ her! Are you happy now? Oh and for the record, she told me to tell you about us speaking again, but I didn't want to because I wanted to avoid _this_ and I knew you'd make me choose between the two of you since you can't seem to forgive me for what I did!" I yell back, pulling my shirt over my head and grabbing a pair of jeans. The last thing I wanted was to stay here after a big blowout like this.

"Well great then! So you look like the bad guy and I look like the bad guy, but there is little Santana sitting idly by watching us fall apart because of her!" She points as if Santana is here, but I ignore her face. "I'm your fiancée; not Santana and yet you treat her better than you'll ever treat me, even though all I've done was been there for you! You're selfish Quinn. You're so fucking selfish!" She finishes and starts walking out, before turning around. She shakes her head as she watches me put my shoes on to leave the apartment.

"You're still in love with her, aren't you?" It's calmer and there's pain. The tone makes me stop the tying of my shoes, before finally making eye contact with her. I see the redness around her eyes and I know I've caused so much mess for her. I know she thought overtime I could love her fully; I thought I could too. I realize now it's impossible to love someone fully when someone else will always have your heart.

I finish tying my shoes and get up, grabbing my phone off the dresser she once leaned on, before grabbing my purse and keys to head out the door.

I didn't need to answer a question she already knew the answer to.

_x._

I know I shouldn't have gone to her apartment. I told myself I shouldn't, but I didn't know where else to go besides Brittany. She wouldn't have understood because I've left her partly in the dark with all of this and honestly that's not fair to her either. She hasn't judged me once for any of my decisions about Santana or Caroline; she just gives me advice.

I knock on the wooden door and Santana opens it in her tank and briefs. I look her up and down for a moment; God hates me. He gives me two beautiful women and a challenge to see if I handle it well or not, well fuck! How well have I handled your task God? Pretty shitty I imagine.

"I tried calling earlier—," she states as she steps aside and lets me in.

"Yeah Caroline saw it and blew up at me. I deserve it though because I'm selfish," I glide around her living room slowly as she shuts the door.

"Q—you're not—," I hold my hand up as I turn to face her in order to silence what she's about to say to make me feel better. I don't deserve the kindness she's about to spring on me, so I make it stop before it begins.

"She told me so, but I already knew it. Instead of trying to make me feel better, so I don't believe it. Can you just—be there to listen?" Santana nods and sits down on the couch, with her legs on open in an unlady like fashion as I sit down, dropping my purse down, crossing my legs and leaning my head against the couch.

"I told myself I needed to at least be alone five minutes before she showed up at home. I was ready to just end it in order to give her a chance to find someone better than me. Someone who can give her their full heart, which is evidently something I can't do, then she shows up, wanting to jump into the shower with me and kissing my neck; it wasn't even her anymore—_she disappeared_," I whispered the last part, but I didn't tell her that my mind drifted to her in that moment.

"I panicked because I'm afraid of being alone. Is that so wrong? To be afraid of being alone forever," I ask her and she stares at me intently as I speak. It's like I have her full attention and she gulps inaudibly.

"No it isn't; however, you did get yourself in a huge mess and perhaps this fight is what you needed to grow as your own person again," she tells me and I nod slowly. She's right because all I needed to do is give Caroline the ring back, move out and maybe ask Brittany to stay with her and that's it.

"Yeah," I breath out as I shake my head; lesson learned, I suppose.

"I'm going to take you out so you can't dwell on it anymore though," she stands up and I look at her curiously. She looked like she was dressed for a night in or maybe even to go to sleep. Where the hell can we go at almost ten o' clock at night besides a bar?

_x._

"The movies," I look up at the Cineplex, smiling as I remember the last time we were here. It was the first night we met and it was the best moment of my life. I look over at her and meet her eyes as she smiles widely; I know she is thinking the same thing as I am. The amounts of popcorn we wasted throwing it at each other and hitting the guy in front of us.

"It's worth seeing you smile," she comments and ushers me over to the window to buy the tickets. She picks _Mama _which I know is supposed to be scary, but how scary can it really be when it's rated PG-13? I don't do scary movies, but I'll bend a little.

We don't get anything this time at concession because it is so late and it's surprisingly not busy on a Friday night, then again it's the last showings of the night. I sigh deeply and relax in my seat as she sticks her feet up. I look over at her and all my memories of the year before come back like wildfire torching a field.

My mind is flooded with the night we did sleep together, when we fought about Caroline; _déjà vu_. Then when Santana told me she wasn't right for me and that_ she_ was. Why the hell would she say something like that then tell me the next morning it was a mistake? My mouth gaps at the thought, glancing back and forth in front of me.

"Why did you tell me that you were right for me?" I look over at her and Santana turns her head slowly to look directly at me. Her eyebrows are scrunched up in confusion. "That day we slept together. You told me she wasn't right for me and when I asked you who was, you said you were. Why would you tell me that then the next morning say we made a mistake?"

I know I promised to put it behind us, but I had to know. No one just says something like that then says they were practically lying, unless they wanted to just sleep with you, but that's not Santana. That's not who she is.

She sighs deeply. "It's complicated," she responds and I look away slowly, then Rachel comes into my head being a doctor, when Santana claims they met in high school and even though Santana has her doctorate; doesn't excuse the fact that Rachel would at least be in her residency if she was on the same academic track as Santana was, but that's not my place to know because that's their business.

"It's not that complicated Santana. Either you lied about not being right for me or you lied about it being a mistake," I press and she shakes her head, not responding.

"Why couldn't we just have a night where we forget everything and just watch a movie?" Santana says looking over at me. She doesn't have that dark look I saw in Caroline, but she's definitely annoyed.

"I deserve to know _that_ much," I tell her.

"And I told you it was complicated," fuck the complication! There is nothing complicated about what happened that day.

"Fuck this, I'm leaving," I breath out, hopping over her and getting ready to walk out as I hear her seat squeak and pop up to show she's gotten up to.

"Where are you going?" she asks in the hallway, before stepping in between my exit and the opening to the theater seats.

"Brittany's I guess because you won't fucking deal with this shit that I can't even grasp. Do you not see how crazy everything that happened between us has made me? How much it plagues my brain that I just can't function or do anything else! Yet you still keep saying 'it's complicated'. It doesn't have to be, but you're making it that way! Fuck, you know I love you and yet you still can't give me the closure I need," I start to cry and Santana watches me during my entire rant, before I push around her and out the door to walk out of the theater. I hear the squeaking of her shoes as she walks behind me, finally speaking.

"Fine Quinn, you want to know the truth, then here it is,"

When we enter the late night, it's when I finally hear the words that could shatter my heart more than her just rejecting me.

_I'm dying Q._


	17. Part II: Chapter Five

_Chapter Five._

_I'm dying Q," _

Her words echoed in my ears sending the blood rushing through them. Everything in my body forced me to stop in my tracks. My heart hurt as I turned to face her. Her eyes were full of fear and determination. Her bottom lip trembled as I watched her from a far enough distance.

"Wha—what?" I shake my head, begging internally for it to not be true, but she kept a straight face. This wasn't some twisted sick joke that she's spurring out to just get me to stop walking away from her, so we can talk.

"You—you can't be," my voice cracks, but she looks down at the pavement and doesn't say a thing. She looks defeated as her eyes close so there is no way for her to even make eye contact with me. She feels like she's hurting me so much so that she can't look me in the eyes.

"Please just say something," it comes out as a sob and it shakes her from her position. She looks back up and I see the tears slowly making their way down her cheeks. I've never seen her cry before and to watch her now look so vulnerable kills me inside. She didn't have the heart to tell me because—why?

"I thought—I thought I was protecting you," she breaths out and I shake my head, having what felt like anger coarse through me. How long has she known about her condition? How long did she know that there was a chance she wouldn't walk this earth anymore? What made her think she could protect me from this?

"From what?"

"From being upset when I left you," I scoff at her answer, rolling my eyes as I rub the tears from my cheeks. That is the most ridiculous response I have ever heard because regardless of how our friendship turned out, whether it just stayed as merely a friendship or a relationship, she still had a certain place in my heart, so where is the logic that I wouldn't be upset?

"I can't deal with this right now," I breath out as I begin to walk away from her.

"Quinn—Quinn wait," she calls to me, but I keep going letting my eyes tighten closed as she continues to call to me. I can hear her walking behind me, but I don't stop. Her voice is getting more broken by the second. "Quinn stop!" she sobs. "Don't walk away! I love you. Please don't walk away!"

I gulp and those three words stop me. I turn around and she's officially breaking down. She's bent over as a wrecking sob courses through her entire body, causing her form to shake. I realize what me walking away from her was doing to her now. What me walking away a year ago may have done to her. Did she run away from this city in order to be away from me? How I'm handling this situation is irrational. This isn't just me and it's Santana suffering. I begged for answers and she's giving them to me, yet I'm the one walking away to save myself. I forced her to tell me the truth. _What hell are you doing Quinn?_

I walk back to her and stand in front of her as she tries to calm her crying down. "Don't tell me that just because you want me to talk. Don't you do that Santana," I beg to her. I don't need her to play with my feelings like that and she just shakes her head, shutting her eyes to stop the tears from coming.

"I'm not," she looks up as she continues to shake her head. Her voice is strained from the crying and the fact that she told me the three words I desperately wanted to hear finally makes my tears begin to fall hard.

"How long?" I need to know if these feelings are recent or they've been plaguing her brain for as long as mine have.

"Before you even knew I existed," she whispers and that sends a punch into my chest. She's loved me this entire time and hasn't said a damn thing. I was blinded by her feelings for me and every moment I've spent with her, made me fall for her more and more, yet this entire time she already knew. I don't know if I should be grateful, angry, relieved; I don't know what to do or say right now. So many emotions are pushing through my brain that I just can't function.

I should be happy that she's in love with me. I should be, because I've craved everyday for this moment since I realized I was falling for her, then I get dealt with this realization. She won't ever really be mine, because she's dying. From what? I still don't know, but I know that we have to talk about that. Right now, I asked for answers inside her head and she's finally telling me.

"What are you talking about?" She stands back up straight, rubbing the tears away as she sniffles. She sees now I'm not going anywhere and composes herself to the best of her ability. I can't tell what she's going to say next and I'm afraid.

She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes one last time, before exhaling slowly, flicking her eyes back open to begin speaking.

"Two years ago, I started my job at the university. I was nervous as hell and sitting on the train, I wanted something; anything to focus on that will calm me the fuck down. In the corner of my eye I saw you in your blue blouse with your bust high skirt. Your hair was up that day and as you held the bar, you stared at your phone like something interesting was on the screen. I watched you for a few moments and as the doors opened to let us both off, you walked out and as did I. It was the first time I realized how relaxed I felt that entire morning. I silently thanked your presences for doing so.

"That night I walked back into the route to head home. My day went amazing and you were there. Your hair was down this time, and it looked like you had a rough day. You were still beautiful, regardless of how drained you seemed. I wanted to talk to you, but I didn't know what to expect, so when we got to your stop, I knew that it was just a wasted chance, so I gave up.

"Over the next few months, I continued to see you on the train, at least five days a week; sometimes more, but I never had the heart to talk to you. I vowed I would each time, but when I would finally talk myself into it—the train would stop and you'd walk out. I would've chased you, but I didn't want to look like a freak, so I stayed back. I didn't even know if you were gay or straight anyway, but then I heard you talking to who I assume now was Brittany about how she can't set you up with one of the dancers she works with. You answered after a pregnant pause "I don't care if she's flexible"," she chuckles and I breath out a laugh; I remember saying that.

"I knew nothing about you, but each time I'd see you, I knew gradually I was falling for you. I didn't have to know your name or what you did for a living; I just had your presence alone to go by. I knew you were interested in females, so maybe I had a chance, then I thought you were above me because of how classy you dressed for work and how I dressed in sweats on occasion to my job as a professor. In hindsight, I'm nothing more than an upper level teacher; where would I stand a chance with someone like you? So I talked myself out of it again," She stops for a breath and I am just so awestruck by her words that I don't speak; I just let her continue.

"Finally it came down to me just saying "fuck it" and just do it. I had a doctor's appointment, so I was early and you weren't on the train that time, plus it was Saturday. I didn't expect to see you early. I found out from Rachel that I had this heart condition that can get severe if I didn't get a transplant. I remember my blood running cold when she told me, but my thoughts only went to you and how I was thankful I didn't take the plunge to finally talk to you. I went to the park to think and read, I at least wanted to finish The Hunger Games because my little cousin begged me to read them. So for her, I was going to finish them before there was a chance I could die,"

"I was so engrossed in the book, that I didn't even originally feel someone bump into me. I heard the apology and looked up, meeting your hazel eyes. It was the first time I realized there were specs of brown within them. They were breathtaking, but all I could do was smile at your apology and watch you walk away. I felt like in some way it was fate though. In a city with millions of people, I see you almost every day on the same route as me and in Central Park. New York is nearly big enough to lose yourself in, yet I see you more often than should be considered normal,"

"You've loved me six months before we met?" I clarify after her confession and she nods fearfully, almost as if I'd reject her now. If anything, her entire confession of how she knew she loved me makes me love her ten times more.

I pull her by her belt loops to me and lean closer to her lips. "Tell me again," I whisper and she takes a deep breath, taking my cheeks into her hands, before capturing her lips with mine. A surge of fire courses through my body and I wrap my arms around her neck, deepening the kiss. I fucking missed these lips so much it pains me and now it isn't forced or full of aggression and anger, but love; real love that I know is true.

"I love you," she whispers into my lips. "I love you so fucking much Quinn and I'm so fucking sorry for hiding all of this from you," I don't say anything to her apology, I just wanted to feel those full lips on mine again, so I just pull her back in to my embrace.

The slow pace we created didn't falter and it didn't have to. I felt warm inside knowing that I didn't have to guess and wonder where she stood on my level of feelings. I knew everything and she's here telling me so. It pains me to think that I'm on borrowed time with her if she doesn't get a transplant; it terrifies me, but I can't let her go again. I'd rather die than be away from her another second like this and I'm making damn sure I'm not leaving her side.

**x.**

Coming back to Santana's is bittersweet. I'm sliding my jacket off and tossing it on her couch as I scan the room. I've been in here countless time, but never really paid attention to much detail. Each piece of furniture and picture frame was in place. She has a bookcase laced with hard and soft cover books along with DVDs.

Feeling warm arms wrap around my midsection, pulling me back to reality. I feel her lips ghost just under my ear, laying feather like kisses underneath it. I close my eyes contently reveling in the fact that it is no longer a dream or a mistake. Her lips are as soft as velvet as they lower down the length of my neck.

Hitching my breath at her fingers dancing along my skin, she pushes further up over my ribs, placing slight pressure. A moan escapes my lips and I knew then that if I turned around and met those brown pools, I'd be putty in her hands—so I did.

Her eyes met mine and we stood this way, almost as if to memorize every bit of each other's features. She cups my cheek, thumbing it gently, before capturing my lips with her own again. It's easy and not rushed like it was a year ago.

I don't even realize we've moved to her bedroom till I feel her sit me down on the side. She leans down in front of me, sliding my shirt over my head, before lowering me down completely on her mattress. I watch her as I trap her legs with my own, not wanting the feeling of her near to go away. She's sliding her own jacket off and pulling her shirt over head just as I sit up to unbutton and unzip her pants.

She breathes deeply, watching me slide the fabric down her tan legs. I kiss along her hipbones, running my hands over her abs, never once losing eye contact. Her muscles flex with each touch and breath, before she steps out of the pants and slides her way up and landing back to my lips.

I wrap my arms around her neck as she hooks hers under my butt, squeezing it firmly, sliding me further on the bed. I moan in pleasure, feeling it deep in my core. I need more than this. It's slow and sensual; something we lacked before, but it's not enough.

I flip her over and straddle her hips as she runs her hands up my back to the clasp of my bra, and with one swift motion, it lands to the floor. She sits up and palms my breast, enticing my nipples, while kissing along my collarbone and shoulders. I groan louder, grinding my hips into her.

Her lips vibrate into my breasts as she takes a nipple into those lips to suck firmly on. "Oh San," I muster, canting my hips harder than before as I strip her of her own bra, tossing it away with my own. She flips us over and kisses down the valley between my breasts, to my navel. I struggle to keep my breath regular as she slowly lowers my pants down my body, taking my panties with them.

The cool air hits me and I gasp at the feel. I have no friction pressing and it's driving me absolutely insane. I close my eyes tightly as she takes her time removing the pieces of clothing that I groan and start teasing myself to get some form of friction. I breathe out a few short breaths, before I stop and realize my clothing is past my feet and there is no movement.

My eyes open and Santana is standing there with just her panties on, watching me. I gulp inaudibly as I see her eyes have glassed over with want. I take my fingers away and she crawls back on the bed, over me and grabbing my hand that I was just using.

She then takes them into her mouth and starts licking up each digit, letting her lips get very bit of taste of me that I had on there. She moans softly and I can't take anymore, as I move my hips up into her. It's a silent plea because we've never needed much words before and I don't think I can form coherent sentences in this moment.

She lets each finger out with a pop, before kissing me deeply, sliding her hand between us. My scream is muffled by her lips as her fingers begin to tease my clit. She rubs it firmly, making tight circles that, only push me further.

"San, more," I pull away from her lips to let out a barely there whisper. I feel her get up and pull away. I groan at the loss of contact, that I almost yell when I see her on her knees, pulling her last remaining piece of clothing. It's the first time I see just how wet she is for me and I just want to taste her. She smirks and gets back on top of me.

I flip her over, wanting the dominance and attach my lips to her nipple. She curses in Spanglish, making me chuckle against her. _"Dios Mio. Shit,"_

It doesn't last long till I feel her hands on my bare backside again, pushing me further up to her. I pull away and I see that glint in her eyes and before I know it, my entrance is eye level with her and I'm sitting on her chest.

Her tongue darts out, licking up my slit and I gasp, pushing my hips into her. She holds my back, pulling me closer as she licks in circles around my clit, before pushing it deep inside. I thrust my hips into her ministrations as her eyes close, almost to savor the taste.

I slide my hand behind me and start rubbing her clit. Her moan vibrates against me, forcing my eyes to roll back into my head.

"Fuck San," I pull away regrettably, but only enough to reposition myself to face her. She dives back into me and I huff in surprise, not being able to see her movements any longer. I lean forward and I can smell her arousal, causing my senses to heighten just a little bit.

I flick my tongue against her nub and she's groaning against me again. I'm so fucking close and I just want to get her over the edge, so I slide my tongue along her slit up and down, encircling it, while forcing two fingers into her soaking cavity.

"Oh fuck me Q," she pants as I pull my digits out and back in. Before I know it I'm rocking back on her tongue and she's rocking forward on both my tongue and fingers. It feels so amazing to be this in sync with each other and I can feel the build up down in my stomach.

"Shit San, I'm so close," I moan into her and she slows it down; I know why too and I don't complain, even if I want the release that badly.

I work her up further and faster, forcing her to speed up again. My eyes fasten shut as I feel my walls clench, feeling my release course through me as her walls clench against me. My entire body begins to shake as she drinks every drop of me as I do her, before I slow down to a stop.

I pull away and slide off of her, going absolutely limp. My breathing is irregular as is hers, which only pushes me into overload and I slide up next to her, kissing along her chest and neck, trying to get her breathing back to normal.

"If you keep doing that, my breathing is only to get more rapid," she jokes, but I'm not laughing. I love her and she could die at any moment. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

I look down regrettably. "I'm scared San," I whisper and she just cups my cheek to meet her eyes and kisses my lips softly.

"I know, but we'll get through this. Don't think for a second that I'll try everything I can to stay with you now," she says as I feel my tears begin to well up in my eyes.

"I just really love you," I sniffle and she pulls me closer. I rest my head on her chest. Her heart is beating rapidly, like it has prior. I hate that I haven't known about this yet the signs were obvious. It just feels so helpless that she's here with me, like this after making love finally, and it isn't always going to be this way; perhaps.

"I know and I'll love you till the day I die Q. There will never be another person that could steal my heart like you've done," she whispers into my head, placing a light peck into my hair. I just need to hope that we can always be this way. I can't think that she'll die every time I see her or don't see her. I just have to trust that she has everything under control.

* * *

><p><strong>I'll make this quick and easy. I work the next five days, so I don't know when I'll get the next update out. I thank you all very much for the reviews, reading, favoring, and alerting, and I hope this satisfies you all. Happy Valentine's Day or if you're single (like me) Forever Alone Day or just in general Happy Quinntana Day as we all seem to be calling it. Till next time everyone! :)<br>**

**lacksubstance . tumblr . com**


	18. Part II: Chapter Six

**I want to apologize for the long delay. I started another story, I work, and I have a situation at home with my grandmother. If you're following my other story, you're already aware that she is dying of cancer, but she's getting worse mentally as well, so I have to tend to her first before writing unfortunately. Nevertheless, I mentioned this was going to be updated with Traces in the Sand, but I didn't finish that one yet. I felt like this needed more updating than the other story since it's been my main focus mostly, but don't worry it'll be updated hopefully sometime within the week. My brother is coming into town to see my grandmother, plus I am working still, so don't hold me to it too much. Anyway, this chapter isn't that interesting, but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging. So with that, I'm sorry this is super late and I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

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><p><em>Chapter Six.<em>

I woke up with a strange eerie feeling. The room was quiet and it was like a déjà vu hit me like a ton of bricks. My eyes searched the room, knowing instantly that it wasn't my own. It was like I was back where I was a year ago, only this time—I wasn't alone.

I feel warmth next to me and steady breathing from the other side. I smile subconsciously at the love that washed over me. I felt a strange sense of peace and comfort knowing that this wasn't a dream. I watched the girl I fell in love with sleeping soundly with almost not care in the world. Her arms draped protectively around my midsection.

I lean further into her embrace, resting my head above her heart. It beat with a rapidness that made me remember that I could lose this all in an instant. I fear it, but all the while I know I need to push through and be strong for her.

I kiss her softly from her neck to her lips, before sliding my way out of her grasp. I needed to shower; to think and to get my day started. I had a lot of things to deal with, like take care of my living situation with Brittany and explaining how the engagement to Caroline just can't happen anymore. I'll hurt her; I already have, but this is the right thing. I'll feel lost if I don't and my happiness is what's at stake here.

I turn the water on and let it go warm, before stepping inside. I sighed content as it rushes down my bare skin. It was already slightly heated from last night and having another warm body pressed to it the entire night. I close my eyes and just let the water run, before I hear the shower curtain rustle and arms wrap around my lower abdomen.

The next thing I feel is lips ghosting over my shoulder and tender fingertips brushing over my skin. I shudder when the lips make their way up my ear and take them between teeth. I groan at the feeling as those perfect lips turn into a smile, knowing exactly what gets me.

"Where you going?" She whispers into my ear as if to hide a secret. I turn in her arms and finally meet tired brown pools and a dripping tan body. I bite my bottom lip in thought. This was everything I imagined it would be. Looking at her knowing she's officially mine and no one could take her away from me—except God apparently.

"I have to talk to Brittany about moving in with her and Caroline about us," I explain especially if Santana and I are going to be together, I have to be honest with her; not like Caroline. I've hid so much from the other woman that I can't just do that to her—they're not the same.

Santana stares at me for a moment, taking a deep breath and sighing. She nods nevertheless to show she understands what I need to do, then leans forward and kisses me deeply. She pulls away and rests her head on my forehead. "There are some things I need to tell you," she mumbles and I look at her concerned, but whatever it is; we'll get through it, so I nod for her to continue.

"Well my next appointment is today this afternoon, so if you'd like to come you're more than welcomed to," she begins and I nod frantically, like as if it's even a question. I want to know everything and how long it'd take for her to get a transplant—I need answers.

She looks away for a moment and I know there is something more, but she's afraid to tell me. I just hope there isn't something else that will ultimately decide her fate is only death. I'm just begging some higher power to not take her away from me, so much so that I feel tears stinging my eyes. The water from the shower hide it very well though because I don't want Santana to see me cry; I can't be weak for her.

"I'm not on the transplant list," she says quietly and those words just knock me into my chest. She's known about her condition for a long time; time that could've easily been spent on a list to get a new heart—chances could've been that she already could've had one, but now she confesses she's on even on it.

I shake my head and the tears begin to come out violently. Though we're still under the water, Santana can easily see now that I'm attempting to refrain from sobbing, but she leans forward and takes me further in her arms, letting me bury myself in her neck. I let them go and I silently apologize to her for not being stronger.

**x.**

After Santana and I got out of the shower, I explained to her that I'd be at her appointment which was at one. We agreed to meet at the hospital that way I could get everything I needed done. I decided my first stop was Caroline because at least while I'm there I can grab a few times of clothing for sleeping in and work.

Being that it was the weekend, she should be in even with this case taking over her entire life practically. I feel awful for springing this all on her now, when she has so much stress to deal with as it is, but it just needs to happen.

I unlock the door and slide in quietly. The apartment is silent and the windows have been casted down, which let's absolutely zero light in it except through the faint cracks. I gulp inaudibly, when I see Caroline in a chair nursing a glass of wine. The bottle sat next to her on an end table and my heart breaks for her.

She looks up and meets my eyes, before glancing back down at the carpet underneath the coffee table. I don't really know what to say or do, but the awkwardness of the situation is becoming overbearing. I want to get this over with, grab my things and go to Brittany's, and still even be a little early to Santana's appointment.

"I'm going to grab some things," I finally say quietly, slowly advancing to the bedroom. Prolonging everything isn't going to get me anywhere, so I have to push it forward on my own.

"So that's it then?" I hear behind me and shifting of the chair cushion which means she's gotten up. I sigh deeply as I pull the closet door open.

"You're just leaving and not letting us talk this out?" I look up as I hear the closeness of her voice. She is looking on curiously, resting her face against the doorframe. I look away pulling things off hangers and grabbing heels.

"I can't keep doing this to you and I'm hurting myself," I shake my head with a huff, pulling my duffle off the top shelf and placing it on the bed as I fold my clothes to place the items neatly inside.

"Tell me what happened," I stop my motions as I hear her breaking tone. What do I say? Tell her that Santana told me she loved me and it's all I've been waiting to hear from the moment I realized I was in love with her myself? That would devastate her, but she deserved to know the truth.

I stop completely and face her with my arms folded across my chest. She looks like she's prepared for the worst. She already knows I'm planning to leave her, so what more damage can be done?

"Santana is dying," I look down with a defeated expression. "And she told me she's loved me this entire time but didn't know how to tell me when she has her illness," I give her the cliff-notes version and I don't know how she's going to react to all of this. I know her enough to not get defensive about it or angry because that's just not who she is, but her reaction is still unknown.

"Well it already looks like you made your choice then," she finally speaks and turns away to let me finish getting my things. She looked defeated and saddened about me leaving, which is acceptable. I feel terrible about this, but at the same time, it shouldn't be wrong for me to go after my heart right? Santana is my heart and always has been, so why does it hurt so much to see Caroline hurting this way?

_I caused this._

**x.**

My fists rack over the wooden door as I hold my heavy duffle in my left hand. I shift from side to side waiting patiently for Brittany to open her door. I sigh deeply, feeling a cramp hitting my arm, but I do my best to ignore it. I'm not entirely sure what I should tell Brittany about this situation. She's always been there for me and the greatest support system I could ever imagine, but to see me coming to her apartment with a duffle will definitely raise some questions.

When I hear the clicking of the lock and the chain being moved, her door pops open and she eyes me in disbelief. She has glasses perched on her nose, which she wears when she insists she's reading, but I know differently—it's quite comical.

"You have some explaining to do," she says sternly and I shake my head with no response as she moves away so I can be let in.

I walk to her couch and sit down, placing my duffle next to my feet as she sits down across from me, waving for me to speak, but I just look at her curiously. "Please Britt, I can't take you seriously with those things," I roll my eyes, letting out a deep sigh and she shrugs, pulling them off and placing them in her lap.

"Suitable enough for you?" Brittany states and I smirks, nodding.

"Yes thank you my dear," she replies sarcastically and then suddenly turns serious, knowing in reality Brittany wanted the truth. "I need a place to stay," I added and Brittany quirks her eyebrows questionably.

I bite my bottom lip and begin to tell her about everything. "I lied about everything," I look down at my hands threading between each other and I sigh deeply. "I didn't talk to Santana to just get closure. We decided to put everything behind us—we missed each other, even just as friends, so we kept talking," I look up to meet Brittany's eyes and her facial expression softened at my admittance. I gulp at her silence because this is Brittany I'm speaking to—she's a girl of a million words. She always has something to say, so my tears start to come.

"I just didn't know where else to go when Caroline found out about us talking again. I went to Santana and I felt better, but I needed the closure because maybe I could fix things with Caroline and just be friends with Santana—so I asked her why she told me she was right for me then suddenly change her mind—,"

"Wait—wait, she told you that?" I nodded when Brittany finally spoke to understand everything. I nodded frantically. "When?"

"When we slept together a year ago," I told her and Brittany leans forward on her knees, shaking her head as she rubs her lips with her fingertips. I knew then and there that she was thinking about something, but that didn't mean she'd indirectly tell me what it was. There is something though and I'm positive it has to do with Santana mostly.

"She said she made a mistake?" She asks meeting my eyes again and all I could do was nod; there wasn't much else I can say, but clarify it. "And you believed her?" She adds in almost shock, that's when my eyes widen.

"Well no, but what the hell was I to do? Call her a liar?" I ask and she nods like it's almost obvious, but I'm not entirely sure why this is relevant now. It doesn't matter. This shit happened and now we're together again—well sort of and we weren't together even before, but besides that—I have my answers.

"This isn't the point Britt. I slept with Santana again—last night after mine and Caroline's fight. She told me she loved me for real and I—I left Caroline, but now I need my best friend," I tell her truthfully and calmly. She gives me a tight lipped smile and sighs, before getting up and grabbing my duffle. She walks around her coffee table with it and I begin to follow her—I hope she doesn't throw my things out the fire escape; not that she is the type anyway.

She brings it into her extra room and sits it down on the couch. "It's a pull out. It's not comfortable and I found it on the street, but I got it refurbished, so like it's still awesome," she shrugs and I smile gratefully; ignoring the fact that there is a possibility of a family of stray cats living in it, before taking her in my arms to hug her tightly.

"Quinn, I've always been there for you, no matter what. You're my best friend and I love you. I know Santana is someone you were destined to be with and I love when you're with her. You feel alive and like a kid again—you forget your control. Caroline couldn't bring that same emotion out of you that Santana could, but it didn't mean she was a bad person—it just wasn't right. Do what makes you happy and I'll love you all the same with zero judgment," she explains with a smile.

"I love you too," I mumble into her shoulder, before pulling away and she wipes tears I didn't even know sprang out. She scrunches her nose up a little, which makes us both giggle and I let out a deep breath I didn't even realize I was holding, when a thought suddenly hit me.

"There's a problem though," I tell her, before she could make any emotions or say anything. "Santana's sick—like seriously sick and if I can't get her on a transplant list, she could die," I break to her and she pulls me back into her arms, knowing I need the comfort. "I can't lose her Britt,"

"You won't honey," she whispers and honestly I hope her promise is actually enough to convince me of that.

**x.**

I walk into the hospital immediately after I get situated at Brittany's. I'm so thankful to have my best friend by my side through all of this, but at the same time it doesn't exactly seem like it's enough when I'm worried about Santana. I'm thankful nothing's changed with her physically, seeing as she was diagnosed with her condition awhile ago, which gives me hope and yet I'm concerned we've wasted too much time—I'm scared.

I take a deep breath and let it out when I see her slouched in her chair, sleeping. She looks so cute hunched over that I walk over to the desk to see if she's checked in at least, before she fell asleep—which she did, so I sit down next to her and kiss her head.

She shakes herself awake, smiling dopey like at me, then leans over and kisses my lips softly. She pulls away and I couldn't help but smile back—it all feels so normal and natural to be this way publicly with her. "Did you get everything that you needed taken care of?" She stretches when she asks as a yawn escapes her.

"Yes, so I'll be living with Brittany from now on," I say with a small yet proud smile that I at least did what I was supposed to do, even if it did take a lot of pushing.

"You mean until I put a ring on it," she clarifies and I swear my heart skipped a beat when she said those words. The thought of having Santana as my wife is indescribable.

Before I could come up with any response, her name was called and she stood up. I get up too, placing my purse on my shoulder and grabbing her hand to lace our fingers together. The nurse does the routine check up on basics, like her weight and height, before bringing us into the room to wait for the doctor. It didn't take long till Rachel came walking in with her file and when she saw me she stopped short. Santana just waves it off to show it was okay.

"I'd like to clarify that it was Santana's idea for me to fake date her," I chance a look at Santana, who's eyes widen at Rachel's admittance.

"I didn't tell her you weren't my girlfriend," Santana says in a harsh tone, just as Rachel slapped her shoulder.

"Oh stop it, the woman is here for a reason which means you finally told her you love her, therefore she knows your condition and wants to know all the information. I'm a doctor—I'm not stupid," she says, looking over at me to confirm her response, which I nod to because it's all true.

I pull Santana down by her cheeks and kiss her on the lips. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I love her now tell her to let go of my cheeks—they're the lady killers," she jests, but I let them go anyway, even though she's right. That single dimple is what gets me, before I kiss her one last time and sit back down in my chair.

"Oh you two are adorable," Rachel says with a sincere smile. "Okay, but down to business. Now Quinn, Santana obviously brought you here because she has no problem with you knowing her situation, so with that said she has a condition called cadriomyopathy, which causes shortness of breath, fatigue, irregular heartbeats, dizziness, swelling of the legs, and bloating. Now from what I'm aware of Santana has most of these things and with this diagnosis, her condition could've gotten worse fairly quickly, but she's lucky. Due to her excellent health otherwise, her condition is actually a slow term case. It will get worse though, this is why she needs a transplant. She's been on medications to keep it regulated," Rachel explains thoroughly and I nod with each piece of information she gives me. I'm thankful she's not like most doctors that use large terminology so you can't understand what it is they're saying.

"And how long would it take for her to get a transplant if she gets on the list?" I ask because if it worsens before she gets a new heart, then it's almost not worth it, but we have to try. I will not give up on her that easily. I love her way too much for that to happen.

Rachel sighs, glancing at Santana who has been silent during this entire time. "There's no way of knowing. A lot of people all over the country need hearts, but the quicker she gets on it the better. The list is divided into seriousness and blood types, so it's all relative, but I've tried getting her on this list and she's refused every time," I look over at Santana. She's refused to get on the list? This is definitely new information that I didn't know and my heart sinks, knowing she could've been on it this entire time and was specifically asked, but she kept saying no. In a way this causes anger to arise. For all we know she could've had a new heart already and for some unknown reason, she said no.

"I want on it now," her voice breaks through finally and meets my eyes with a hopeful expression. Rachel meets her vision as well and nods furiously, making a note in the file to get her on the list, breathing out a smile.

"You are certain you want to do this? You were very adamant before," she checks and Santana leans forward to take my hand in hers, grasping it tightly. She rubs her thumb over the top of my palm softly and pulls it to her lips to kiss it gently.

"I'm sure. Get me on that list and I'll hold on till I get it," she says and I smile at her, forgetting my anger as Rachel nods confidently, getting up and walking out. I sigh deeply, getting up and resting my hands on Santana's thighs. I stand between her legs and I lean up to press my lips gently to hers. They linger together before we pull away and she cups my cheek in her hand.

"You're my heart," she whispers, leaning forward again to kiss me. "I love you and I'm staying here with you. I promise you that," and I believe her because I have no other choice, but to do just that.


	19. Part II: Chapter Seven

**Long overdue, but here it is. More of an author's note when you are done reading. With that said there is a trigger warning so be mindful if suicide is a very tender situation for you, then this update isn't for you. At any rate, those who will be reading, enjoy the chapter.**

**x.**

_Part II: Chapter Seven_

The air is thick and the darkness that has consumed me has only pressed me into a downward spiral as my knees buckle before me. I land on solid ground; dead weeds and grass surround an outer ring in my wake. As I kneel unmoved by the haunting thoughts that plague my mind, I place a gentle touch upon cool stone, tracing the lettering engraved within its thick threshold.

Each letter pressed against my fingertips begin to slowly make their way into my brain till I feel my body crumbling, ready to spill out a heart wrenching cry. I can't breathe though nor can I even shed a single tear because with each fine stroke the name burns into my soul and the sky cries out for me instead as drops of rain begin to descend from Heaven's gates.

_S—A—N—T—A—N—A_

Everyone promised it'd be okay; that she'd make it through her illness. I slowly began to believe it all held such truth. She was the strength that I had held so dearly to, but she's gone now as is a part of me. The weakness that compels me is dominating my every sense as I become drenched with my own sorrows. She was my heart and the only love I've ever known and I wasn't strong enough to save her.

"We were too late," an echoing whisper escapes my lips. "I was too late and I failed you," tracing the last of her name as the winds from above envelope me in a suffocating squeeze, that I gasp for life.

_L—O—P—E—Z _

Her pocket knife appears in my grasps, it's blade is quite happy to see me as is my palm screams with joy over being able to hold it in its clutches. It shines with pure adulterated power that it sends a wave of tingles down my spine.

She is gone now and I cannot live without the only woman I've ever truly loved. Fighting for her life for almost two years without any knowledge of it till six months into our lives together made me feel nauseous to say the least, especially when all the signs were pointed there.

I should have known. All those times when she ran to me out of breath or those times where her heart had extra beats spewed in different times should've arose some suspicions, but I was naïve. I only cared about myself and my emotions towards her that I didn't care to notice the bigger picture here. If only she got on that list sooner—maybe she'd still be here in my arms, but instead I kneel before her stone every moment I can. I will never love another again and even after a year, I still can't say goodbye, no matter what Brittany or my family try to tell me.

"I will not fail you again," That knife taunts my waking senses that my nose flares with absolute desire. As I bring the blade down to my skin, feeling it's cold welcoming, I chance one last look at my lover before me—roses decorate her stone while droplets dance on their peddles. "I will be with you again soon baby," I whisper my final words before I slice a line across my pulsing vain, letting the blood spill on the ground that I kneel before…

My heart races and I awake in a cold sweat on Brittany's pull out, taking in my surroundings. I begin to inhale puffs of air to calm my lungs of the eerie dream that I just returned from. I sigh deeply several times before allowing my body to relax into my pillows tiredly.

I pull my phone off the nightstand—it's a little after three in the morning, but there is no way that I'll be able to get back to my trance now. I run my hand through my hair, before settling on scrolling through my contacts to get to the person I'm searching—longing for.

I press her name and it rings on the other line several times, before finally getting picked up. As soon as her voice echoes on the other end in a dreamy like state, I immediately feel guilty over such pettiness, though I imagine if she knew of this nightmare, which has been reoccurring she'd be highly concerned because that's just how Santana can be. I love her for being so caring over me, but more so I don't want her to place so much worry on me when she needs to keep her stress down to a bare minimum with her condition.

"I'm sorry I woke you," I tell her knowing my voice will sound just as exhausted as hers is, but I have no energy to hide it. She'd see right through it anyway, besides why would I call at such an ungodly hour if I didn't need to hear her soothing voice?

"It's alright baby, are you okay?" Even in that tone, I can feel the rising sincerity flooding through my phone and I would give anything to just have her arms around me or her simple touch that gives me rising goose bumps and yet still manages to leave me in such serenity.

"I—uh—I'm fine, I just miss you next to me that's all. I'm having a hard time sleeping," I've been told countless times that lying to one's partner is a sign of lack of trust, but with Santana and I; it's different. I trust her with every ounce of my being—it's her illness that keeps me from being completely committed emotionally. I take two steps back when she takes two steps forward because I'm afraid of giving too much then losing her in the blink of an eye.

Yet maybe that's what these nightmares are trying to feed into me. Perhaps they are trying to enlighten me that I need to be more supportive because much like any other patient that is in a near death experience whatever the illness may be, physicians state that with the support of loved ones the risks of having your love one consumed by death is at a decrease because of their hope—some believe illnesses can be controlled psychologically which is why support is absolutely essential in the healing process, but in this case it's the waiting process.

"You didn't have to leave Q," she resonates and I can tell through her response that she's smiling, which only means that deep down—either way I wouldn't have been sleeping right at this moment, but then again that nightmare wouldn't have occurred either.

The only thing that presses my mind is my nightmare self decides to commit suicide out of grief. Would I stoop to such a level of utter depression that I would be willing to end my life for the woman I love? I question this, but I'm brought back to the realization of what Santana would think about all of this. She wouldn't want that life for me if it got to this point. She may never have said it, but she doesn't have to because I'm aware of how my girlfriend is after I've known her for as long as I have.

Knowing each other for technically almost two years, even though we lost one of those years in each other's lives, we've been in a relationship for two thus far and according to Rachel, all is well with her health as of right now, but like any other life threatening illness, the worst can spring on at any time, which is why I'm refraining from getting too close and any time Santana tries to get us to go for more than one round of sex in one night, I have to fake being tired. I worry that Santana's heart could shut down by having that much activity and I don't want to risk it.

When Santana officially got on the transplant list, I imagined it would take a shorter amount of time to get a heart than this. I overestimated the process and I hold some reservations at my girlfriend for waiting has long as she had to get on the list, prolonging the wait time longer than considered necessary.

When I first addressed this to her, she was bringing me lunch at work—it was two days after Rachel made the arrangements for her name to get on the list of transplants. She merely chuckled lowly at me, before stating, "This isn't like some _John Q_ shit Quinn. Getting on the list requires a period of time where you wait your turn, but more than that, you wait for a person to die too—there is just a lot of waiting involved and I don't mind waiting if the outcome is positive in the end." Unfortunately, I thought to myself that entire day, is the outcome really going to be positive? No one really knows till the waiting game is officially over.

"Quinn," her voice snaps me away from my piercing thoughts and I'm reminded that I can't dwell on the future when it isn't officially foreseen. She isn't gone and there is no ounce of death within her aside from my compelling thoughts that still haunt my subconscious.

I love this woman with every part of me. I know that, but I refuse to let myself lose the one person that I hold so dearly to me. I'm realizing through all of the hardships that I'm holding in such secrecy from her that I can't make this about me. I can't hold back my love and that I need to shower her with all the love I can give.

"I love you," were all the words I can manage to distribute to her and when I hear the content sigh escape her lips. I ache to have them upon my own, but yet I decided to go back to Brittany's. I had work in three hours and I knew my priorities were being compromised by my sudden sleepless nights, but I couldn't control my psyche.

"I love you too baby," she says tenderly and I didn't have to see her to know that her lips have curled up in a relaxed smile. "You sure you're alright?"

I don't want to lie to her, but if I'm going to get these to vanish—I have to let her in. "I had a nightmare," I confess, capturing my bottom lip between my teeth and with a deep breath on the other end I know she's far more alert than she was originally.

"Again?" My eyes scrunch in confusion as to how she knows that this has already occurred previously.

"How did you know this has been reoccurring?" I ask curiously.

"The last time you stayed over, you were tossing and turning a lot and talking in small riddles in your sleep," she explains as my body grows hot in embarrassment—to think I expected I was being stealth about my feelings, but apparently I underestimated my power.

"It's okay to be scared of losing me Q. You didn't have to have those nightmares for me to catch on to it either," Okay so I've really underestimated myself entirely. "I'm terrified of the outcome of all of this, but if I'm supposed to die then that's what happens, but don't push away little by little because I'm not gone yet,"

I sniffle and place my hand on my cheek to brush away a tear I didn't realize I started to shed. I can feel the pain in her voice—she knew this entire time I was hurting, but was just waiting for me to come to her for guidance. All I truly seemed to need was to hear those words from her that everything could be okay if I just allowed them to me. She isn't promising anything that she can't control like everyone else seems to be willing to do in order to keep my mind at ease, but she's just promising that if I just push myself forward she'll be there through the end and I think that's a good enough compromise.

I lay back, letting out a deep breath fixing so the pillows rested comfortably under my head to leave just enough support as I adjust the phone to a better angle. "Tell me something to help me relax," I whisper—anything that will allow me to fall asleep to her love as I close my eyes to drift away.

She hums on the other end, as she makes her own movements noticeable. "Well I'd kiss you down your neck, darting my tongue up the length of your hot skin—," as wonderful as I imagine where that is going, I open my eyes at her husky rasp.

"Uh no—I said relax not get horny," I chastise only to be welcomed with a chuckle on the other end and I could tell she was only stirring me up as a way to lighten the mood—another reason to love this woman so much; she doesn't make much too seriously and if there is a serious matter at hand, I can trust her to distract me from it.

"Okay, okay," she calms, before sighing. She pauses for a moment to collect her thoughts I'd presume till she finally reveals them. "I always picture my life without this condition and where I'll be when it no longer exists," she begins. "It's with you, but I just imagine vividly that years from now we'll be married and a year later we would have a child on the way—you'd make a beautiful mother Quinn; I hope it looks just like you even if I am the one to carry it. We will no longer live in the city, but in suburbs to raise our child in a beautiful house with three bedrooms and it's close enough to the train station so we can go to work still. We'd have Sunday lunches with my family in Brooklyn and holidays in Ohio with your family—they'd dote on our little one like we'd no longer matter to them, but we wouldn't care because we have a family and our love is still strong even after the hardships we've faced along the way," as I relish in her tale of our future, a small smile begins to form on my lips as I drift back into my slumber with her words.

I miss whatever else she may have said, but when I wake up three hours later for my day of work to my phone still pressed between my ear and my pillow, the phone is still connected to Santana on the other end, sending warmth coursing through to my heart.

_It's like you're attached by this invisible tether and no matter how far away you are, you can always feel them._

**x.**

Work was far from a distraction than it should be and for good reason. With clients coming in and out of my office this week asking on the progression for their product designs, I am fairly certain that I'm in over my head at the moment. It's not like I'm pending on eliminating my position in this company, because I for one value my career and plus Santana would never allow me to give up my status since she knew how hard I've worked for my position, but also unless I wanted to leave willingly she was just the backbone I needed to stay.

Lately I've just felt overworked and the lack of energy doesn't compensate for my work being up to its full potential. Due to this realization, I've been putting much unneeded pressure on Tina to make sure that everything is handled and revised for my future meetings.

As I place my pen down on my desk, I sigh in utter frustration, rubbing at my weighed down eyelids as a light tap is heard at my office door. I sound quietly, but it was apparently enough as the creaking of the hinges makes it apparent that my guest as granted access. I look up through a half lidded gaze at Tina, holding several files.

She clears her throat. "I have the files you've asked me to revise and I made a few changes that are within reason, but I must be frank—if I may that is," she begins and I gesture to her with my hand with no visible annoyance, but rather intrigued by her concerns. "It seems that your work is not as—well precise as it usually is. You've always been a genius inventor when it comes to product improvement, but lately I feel your work as been fairly inadequate. I think you're still a genius—don't misinterpret that, I guess what I'm trying to say from assistant to boss, I'm concerned," she fully expresses and I'm awestruck by her deliverance.

I grimace at her and I know she's worried that I'm a time bomb just waiting to explode at her for such out of turn comments, but instead I stand and walk around my desk till I take a seat on my couch, gesturing for her to sit down next to me. She does so, placing the files on her lap and crossing her hands above them.

I sigh, looking away for a moment to recollect myself before meeting her gaze. "You are a brave woman Tina. Most people wouldn't say such things to their bosses, but I am not angry or enraged by your forwardness—it's if you were cowardly restraining your thoughts that I'd be harsher; however, I've been dealt with an eye opening situation in my personal life that it's taking a toll on my work and emotionally," I resonate to her because sure I have Brittany, but the thing with Brittany is she will tell me anything to remain positive, it's seeing Tina's forwardness that makes me actually trust her with my thoughts about Santana.

"You don't have to tell me about it if you aren't comfortable Miss. Fabray," she begins and I hold my hand up—Miss. Fabray only shows we've continued such a professional demeanor for far too long that it needed to change. Tina could be a well valued person in my life and not just as a asset to the company, but to my personal well being. I needed someone like her to give me the harsh truth and not half ass it.

"Tina you may call me Quinn and honestly—I want to," I tell her and she nods slowly a small smile hidden behind her lips that shows she's grateful for my sudden sincerity. "My girlfriend is possibly dying of a heart condition, providing she gets a transplant in time and I find myself having nightmares of her death. The recent one is of me committing suicide at her grave," I unload it like it's a gun at a range, but her expression never changes, but I know she's still—just there. "I want them to go away so I'm not haunted with the negatives, in order to be positive for her, you know?" I add and she nods, so I know she's listening.

It's only when she lets out a breath I didn't know she was even holding that I'm anticipating her answer, though I'm not entirely certain how she will approach this subject, considering the uncharted territory she has just been thrown in. She doesn't know Santana—hell she doesn't even know me, but knowing Tina—she'll speak through an unbiased opinion, much like a therapist would her patient.

"In order to give your girlfriend a fighting chance, you cannot let the darkness of your mind plague your reality," okay when I imagined I was hinting for advice, I didn't imagine her to come up with a something that I could find in a fortune cookie—I know she's Asian, but I didn't want to be stereotypical and racist.

"Which in lamest terms means, you can't let the possibility of her death be a deciding factor on how you live your life with or without her—if it comes down to it. You shouldn't feel obligated to end your life based on the fact that she's no longer on this earth. It'll hurt, I'm not implying it won't if by chance she doesn't get a new heart, but these cards we are dealt with are just obstacles that we will hurdle over, providing we don't give up," she expresses and I stare at her as she pours her thoughts out before me as I drink in everything she is addressing, milking it for what it's worth.

"Your dreams are telling you that you feel she's already dead, but she's not. You have to just be willing to remind yourself of the fact that she's still with you, showering you with love and adoration, expecting the same in return. Don't let your relationship be solely based on her illness, but on the passion that it was originally stemmed from," she completes and I smile wider at the woman before me, but not enough to show happiness, but gratitude.

I place a hand on her knee. "Thank you," I tell her softly as she smiles sadly at me, pressing a hand on my shoulder to show her sympathy for the entire situation—it isn't a good one for nor Santana and I, but I'm treating it like I'm the one with a clock that is ticking on my death bed when it's Santana. She shows no signs of reservations on the situations, but I know deep down she's just as scared as I am; however, she may be refusing to reveal them to me because she knows how difficult it is for me since I'm fairly too obvious for my own good.

I needed to grow the fuck up and take charge of my emotions. I need to be there for my girlfriend and give her my strength—she needs it far more than I do. I need to gain some patience with this list, but I'm far too antsy that this will take longer.

My thoughts always return to Santana's words about John Q—that movie with Denzel Washington holding a hospital hostage till his son got a heart transplant. His son was barely hanging on for his life and they got a heart from a woman who dies in a car accident, remove it from her dead corpse as soon as possible, then transport it to the facility just in time. I keep thinking that it could happen to her. Even if Santana gets worse and is near the break of death, John Q's son got a heart just before his time came—maybe there is always hope Santana could too if it came to that situation, but like Tina said. I can't think this way.

I need to dote on my girlfriend—and possible future wife because it is only a matter of time before Santana gets that transplant and we are one step closer to starting a life together.

* * *

><p><strong>I did something a little different. I used a wide variety of vocabulary I didn't even know that I was capable of salvaging together; however, I feel this is my best writing in a very long time. I've been in a dark place these past few months and I've been forcing updates that I just find hard to endure. I presume me going back to this story will allow me to clear away that depth that is clawing at me, allowing me to produce the angst this story solely deserves. Be mindful, my emotions won't conflict with the ending outcome of Santana's fate, even though I am just as unsure of how she'll end up as you are, so please don't ask me because I don't know.<strong>

**Anyway, thank you all for your complete support and patience throughout my Fanfiction career (is it even a career? Blah.) I think I left off last author's note that my grandmother had cancer, so if you are not following any other story other than this one, I will inform you she passed roughly two months ago. As I've already mentioned, I've been having a rough time physically and emotionally, so I'm trying to regain my sanity. Hopefully I will do so which will allow me to produce better writing for you all. I continue to be grateful for all of you who have stuck by me from the beginning and take your time out of your lives to read what I write, scrape up a review for me to read and come to Tumblr to tell me of all the anticipation you feel. I hope you all continue to support me throughout my life in the future, wherever my future takes me in this writing business.**

**Thanks again!**

**sam**

_**lacksubstance . tumblr . com**_


	20. Part II: Chapter Eight

**It's been awhile guys, but I'm glad you've all been so patient with me. I have gotten a lot of your messages on Tumblr and on here, and I can't express how grateful I am for you all that have been checking up on me. I am doing much better these days; like really good actually, so hopefully I'll be back writing completely soon. I have been placing my thoughts towards my writing rather than my life; planning a lot I want to happen in here and TITS. So with that said, thank you all so much for everything as always. If you have anything you want to express to me, please feel free to ask through Tumblr (still limited internet access, so again just send messages on TUMBLR. You don't have to have one to ask me anything there.) This has everything that you guys favor so I hope you enjoy and I'll hopefully get started on TITS next chapter tomorrow the latest.**

**lacksubstance . tumblr . com**

* * *

><p>Chapter Eight.<p>

It has been a few weeks since my last nightmare and I like to think it had to do with both Tina and Santana's words of wisdom. I'm finally coming to the realization that I'm not being as supportive as I could be for my girlfriend. She's the one that could potentially pass away from this and yet I'm worrying more about myself; even if I believed I was worried for her too. Santana wouldn't ever admit it often, but I know she's scared of what this could mean for us, but she and I have waited two years too long for this moment—we can't give up yet.

Since my last nightmare though, our relationship has taken quite a bit of a turn. I'm over Santana's much more and being the affectionate, loving girlfriend that I should be. I went to her last appointment and Rachel says that even though her heart does seem to be weakening since the last time we saw her, Santana is still a strong candidate for the transplant and that she will keep word circulating about being in need of an organ donor.

It worried me when she said it, but it wasn't enough for me to just think of myself. I chanced a look at my girlfriend and her head was down, staring at our clasped hands in her lap. Her thumb caressed the skin between my forefinger and thumb—it's when I knew I had to show my support. I wrap my free arm around her completely and kiss the top of her head then advanced to her nose, to eventually her lips. I stared into her eyes for a moment and I could see her charm and that usually carefree spirit slowly dissipating before me. That's who she is and if that's gone, who is she? I can't let that warm spirit of hers dissolve because of this.

It's the middle of the night and I'm laying in bed wide awake, I turn over to see a sleeping Santana. Each time she exhales a breath, her chest jumps in a way that shows she's having a harder time breathing than normal. I lay there for a moment just watching her till I finally get up and straddle her hips. I lean forward on my elbows and make a trail of kisses down her neck. I hear a content sigh escape her lips as her hand rests underneath my shirt, making light circles on my lower back. When I finally move away, her eyes are just barely open but there is a content smile playing on her lips.

"Another nightmare?" She asks concerned, running her other hand through my hair which in turn makes me relax instantly.

I shake my head. "I just can't sleep. I'm thinking about so much and I'm worried about you," I confess because I know there is no need to be dishonest with Santana. She's never judgmental and even though I know she tries to be strong in my wake, the hero needs to be saved every now and then.

She traces each contour of the features of my face with her fingertips, letting her thumb brush on my bottom lip, till she rests her hand on the nap of my neck to pull me closer to her lips. They connect briefly till it grew more urgent prompting Santana to ever so gently turn us over so she was now hovering over me. Her fingertips ghost at the hem of my shirt, teasing the idea of pulling it over my head before doing so and discarding it somewhere else. I listen to each intake of breath she takes, knowing full well where this is leading but I'm not entirely sure where this will get us.

This is merely a distraction from my thoughts and I'm well aware of that; however, do I let this continue or do I stop it because I'm afraid it'll take too much out of her. I don't have much time to decide because by the time I figure it out, Santana's already pulling my underwear down leaving a trail of kisses in her wake. My mind is in a haze and I feel dizzy with the gratifying feeling of Santana's tongue, licking my inner thighs as her hands stroke the outer parts. She gently pulls them apart and slowly licks a line up the slit. I let out an unsteady breath as I tense at the not so sudden action—I knew it was coming. I bite my bottom lip as she licks another and takes my clit into her mouth with swoop of her tongue, capturing it with her delicious lips. She sucks it as she plays with my entrance, making circles around it, letting a whimper escape my lips.

I don't speak. I don't beg and I know that wasn't something she was looking for it. She was looking for me to relax without speaking about what really is causing me so much grief. We've talked about this countless amounts of time and no amount of talking is going to change the situation. I've been staying over at her place more and more though because I just don't want to miss a moment of being near her.

I feel her push through my entrance with two fingers and I groan as she thrusts frantically in and out. I let out an embarrassingly loud moan, thankful the walls are thick enough so no one hears. She's never done this before and I'm unable to control myself as she flicks her tongue frantically against my clit, rubbing it with her other hand as she continues her thrusting. I know I'm getting exceptionally vocal and I feel the buildup happening much quicker than I imagined it would, till she pulls out and just rubs my clit.

"Oh my God San," I breath out, running my fingers through her silky dark locks to let her know to continue her ministrations. Whatever I was worried about is long forgotten as she gets back to thrusting inside me again, but my screams have definitely returned. "Oh fuck San, fuck!" I throw my head back as I feel my climax reaching its breaking point, suddenly making itself known as my hips buck into her.

All I see is white dots around the dark room as she kisses her way up my stomach. As she comes face to face with me I see a sheen glistening on her features with a proud smile on her face. I narrow my eyes and peck her lips, then the rest of her face. She giggles and that's when I taste what is not sweat.

My mouth drops. "Oh my God San! You didn't?" I shriek and she laughs louder kissing my neck several times then wipes her face clean with part of her shirt; I cover my face in embarrassment.

"Babe what are you doing?" She asks and I don't look at her. I feel mortified that I was so engrossed in what she was doing that I let myself get out of control that much.

"I can't look at you without being embarrassed," I take the pillow next to me and cover my face. I hear a light chuckle escape her as she rubs my sides gently.

"Never be embarrassed because you squirted," I throw the pillow at her face, enticing another smile as she catches it mid laugh. I turn over and slide on top of her as she stares up at me like I'm the only person in this world. Regardless of how truly mortified I feel, this girl is the most amazing person I could ever have the pleasure of loving and being with. Even with her health issues and emotions about it all, she still worries about only me.

"I love you," I whisper to her as the sides of her lips quirk up ever so slightly. "But please never use that word again," I add with the complete and utter seriousness laced within it.

She laughs, but agrees, pecking my lips softly. We turn over next to each other and I find now I can probably fall asleep. I didn't want to talk about any of the future or her health anymore. I just wanted to live my life with her, even if it means I am potentially running out of time. I just want to know that I'm making the most of the time I do have with her because I know she wants the same which is why she avoided conversations earlier—there is nothing to say simply because we can't predict anything; just hope.

She circles her arms around me, resting them on my stomach and I smile at the warmth it sends through my body. As I'm drifting into a slumber, I hear, "I think you shot me in my eyes," Well there goes the mood I earlier tried to establish.

**x.**

I am awoken the next morning by something heavier than paper, but lighter than a body overlapping my waist. My eyes slowly open to see a breakfast spread on a small lap table accessorized with two eggs, half the plate full of bacon because my baby knows how much I love my bacon while a mug of coffee is placed on the night table next to me. I smile at her effortless beauty. She looks like she just rolled out of bed, placed her hair in a messy bun and still managed to cook me breakfast.

"I know you're capable of doing all of this on your own, but I thought I'd do something for you to show how much you truly mean to me," she sits down crossing her legs as I sit up and take a piece of bacon between my teeth. I moan instantaneously at the tingling sensation it gives me in my mouth—she's getting plenty of kisses later.

"This bacon is amazing babe," I comment and she smiles just enough for it to reach her eyes as well as show off that perfect dimple.

I lean forward and peck her lips gently as I grab the mug on the night table. I take a sip of the warmth that smells of Hazelnut, then place it down where I found it, meeting her content stare. I bite my bottom lip to hide the blush that is creeping up my neck—did it suddenly get hot in here? We sit in a blissful silence with nothing but our thoughts encircling the bedroom. To think this is how my life has become in a few months really overwhelms as well as makes me cherish the fact that we're here. A year before if you told me I'd be having breakfast made by the love of my life, sharing kisses and hot passionate sex I'd believe you, but if you told me that it was Santana and I never really got over her, but she finally told me how she felt for me, I wouldn't have believed that, but this is real and it's everything I had hoped for, but never thought to be reality.

Alas I see her look down and fiddle with something in her hands. She sighs deeply and I want to know what she's grasping so tightly to, but afraid to voice it—it could be anything, so I just stare. I watch her every moment and every turn of her fingertips, every bite of her lip till it disappears in her mouth, then she looks up and her eyes are filled with worry along with such distance that I haven't seen in them since the year before she disappeared from my life. I suddenly feel a rush of fear coursing through my body that hits me to the core of my bones sending shuddering shivers down my spine. I'm reminded of the way I told her I loved her and she said making love to me was a mistake. I know this is nothing of the sort because we're not those people anymore. Regardless of what our pasts were, she is a new person and she isn't running from me any longer.

She smiles my way, almost to reassure me that whatever reservations I'm having in this moment are not needed. She moves the tray from my lap then leans down in front of me, rubbing her thumb up and down my cheek, before letting it glide over my bottom lip. She kisses just that one and it's over before I can even recognize her lips were even there. She laces our fingers together, mustering the best smile she could.

"I love you Quinn Fabray," she whispers blinking back a few tears that are threatening to spill out—what's going on that's making her so upset?

"I love you," I reply back with no way of hiding my deep concern for these intense emotions she's spilling out before me.

She smiles again, capturing her bottom lip between her teeth, chancing a glance down at her other hand then back up at me. "I know we've been through a lot and we still are with everything that's happening with my heart. I know you're scared—terrified even and I am too, but I'm trying to be strong and you're doing the best you can," she takes a deep breath, taking a pregnant pause. "I know you're afraid of losing me and not a day goes by where I'm not afraid of the idea of leaving you. The waiting game sucks ass more than either one of us can admit enough, so I'm done waiting," she lets out a shaky sigh, before holding up a blue box that can fit in the palm of either one of our hands.

My eyes immediately water at just that box because I already know of its contents. I know what is keeping it safe, but I'm preparing myself altogether what this could mean for us. Our eyes meet and I'm sure both of our set of eyes look the same and as she lets go of my hand to pop it open, the sound alone prompts me to look down at the beautiful diamond shining as bright as I could ever imagine. The band has small diamonds encircling the larger base, taking up about half the white band.

"I'm sure you know my next question, so please don't interrupt," she pokes my nose with tip of her finger, making me chuckle as my tears fall down my cheeks. "Will you please marry me?" She asks, sporting this big grin and I pull her up to my face, grabbing both of her cheeks and kissing her passionately.

I pull away and she brushes away the loose tears that have missed the journey with the rest of them. "That was a yes right?" She eyes carefully and I giggle, pecking her lips simply, whispering my answer into them.

"Yes and a thousand times more,"

**x.**

For the next couple of days, all I could do is stare at the amazing ring that accessorized by my finger. Getting engaged this time around, felt far less forced than it did when Caroline asked. I will admit I was happy then, but it feels so different with Santana. The fact is, my heart truly belonged to Santana and always will. With Caroline, I feel maybe I said yes because it was what was expected of me. I'm at the age where marriage and children are supposed to be in my future—near future that is. I felt like I was on borrowed time because of that reason. I probably could've married Caroline, had a family, and still be happy, but I think in some way, something would feel empty even through all of that and I know now that it's Santana.

I sit in a booth at a slightly crowded restaurant, waiting for Brittany because I wanted to share with her the big news. I don't come back to her apartment much because I've spent so much time at Santana's that I practically live there. I wanted to do this right though. I didn't want the obligation of getting together with Santana officially meaning that we had to live together. At this point though, it would just make sense, considering we're engaged now.

The bell rings above the door and my eyes jump up to see her rushing through with her scarf blowing behind her. I make sure to keep my hands in my lap, so she doesn't notice the rock I'm sporting. Instead she plops down in front of me and opens the menu.

"I am so starving and exhausted," she says, searching the menu for anything at this point I'm sure. I sip my water and open the menu for myself as well.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask curiously, peaking up to see if I gauged a reaction. She closes the menu almost dramatically with a huff, pushing it to the end of the table.

"I have back to back rehearsals that I can hardly find time to sleep and eat. After I leave here, I have to return back to the stage and run through the production two more times, before I'm officially done," she explains and as she does so, the waiter returns as we give him our orders, he leaves, but not before Brittany orders something stronger than water.

"I'm sorry Britt—your show is opening next week though, right? So maybe they're just trying to be prepared," I reason because if I know anything about productions whether it was Cheerios or Glee Club, or theater productions, practice was always a must because without it you won't be at your best.

She sighs deeply as her drink is sat in front of her. "I know and you're right. I'm just being a bitch because I can't think clearly, but hopefully after this I will be," she smiles almost deviously as she sips at her drink.

"Okay now you called me, so what's up? The fact that we live together and you're never there only means we're in need of some together time," she adds and I couldn't agree more, so I'm hoping that she'll be willing to help me plan my wedding when she discovers the news.

"I know and I'm really sorry about that. I have work and you have work, and then I'm at Santana's because I can't sleep without her," I sigh which is the truth and Brittany knows it. I've had countless run ins where in a state of slumber, she'll have to sleep with me because I don't want to call Santana—it's gotten to the point where she told Santana about them and Santana said she could call her if there was ever an issue, but now that I sleep at her place the nightmares have become less of a burden.

"But they're better though right?"

I nod as I take another long sip of my water, just as our food comes. "Yes thankfully and Santana's been really good about it. She talks to me in a way that eases my worries with all of this. I have to just remember there is more people than just me at risk of losing her, you know?" I tell her and she nods understandingly.

"Yeah I get it, but it doesn't make it any less scary," she adds. "So still nothing from the transplant people?" she asks and I look up to meet her blue eyes and after a moment I shake my head.

"Usually the more serious cases go first and since Santana's isn't in a critical state yet, she has to wait," I explain, having serious flashes of seeing her on her death bed as we now finally get pushed up to top of the list—it's terrifying, but I shake my head of the thoughts because we're not there yet and I don't want to imagine us ever being there.

"Oh my god!" She suddenly shrieks and I look up as her eyes fixate on my ring finger. I lick my lips and begin to blush. "Quinn! Did she propose to you? When were you planning on telling me?" She asks a million miles a minute I feel like.

I chuckle lightly. "That's what this lunch was supposed to be about. She proposed over the weekend and we got sidetracked so I haven't found the right window to tell you—plus I didn't want to make it about me, I genuinely care what you're up to these days too," I told her and she smiled widely, shaking her head in disbelief.

"This is beautiful Quinn and I can tell this time around you're happy. You're glowing and this—this is who you were meant for," Brittany states as she holds my hand in the middle of the table. "We were in this very booth when you first told me about the stranger you met on the subway. You spent the night going to the movies with her while I picked on you, saying you were in love after only one night and now you're engaged to her. It's amazing how time flies and how right I was," she jests at the end, sipping her drink again as I laugh.

"Are you gloating or do you want to be my best friend and help me plan my wedding?" I ask and she smiles widely again, nodding.

"What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't?" She counters, holding her finger up slightly. "Oh and I am gloating. I have every right to because after all, I totally pictured this moment," she adds and I roll my eyes because she's completely right.

I won't deny I was setting myself up for my feelings towards Santana the moment I laid eyes on her book. Fate has a way of doing crazy things to us. Santana knew of me for a year before I finally noticed her which I still can't believe because she's so stunningly beautiful. I was so absorbed in my job that I just didn't pay attention to anyone else, but she did. I always wonder if she had the courage to come up to me back then, if I would have given her the time of day. I probably would have spoken to her, but I don't know how far we would have gotten. Her personality was just so fun and carefree in comparison to mine—it still is to be honest, but we definitely don't have as many days like we did when we were just friends. Now it just consists of some doctor appointments, cooking together, watching television together, having sex, and then sleeping. We act like we're married already, but even though that light that brought us together isn't as bright as it was, I can honestly say that when Santana gets that new heart it'll come back. I just know that the love of my life—the one I fell for all those months ago will shine and I can't wait to spend my life with her.


	21. Part II: Chapter Nine

**So long for an update, but better late than never I suppose. If you're following me on Tumblr, you will know that I mentioned (after this one) there will be roughly three chapters left or so from this story. It's about that time to put it to a close. We are very near to the end and honestly, I'm excited to put it to a close. Nevertheless, I want to thank each and every one of you for the support I get from these stories; it's quite overwhelming. The level of patience you all have is impeccable. Anyway, I won't delay this any further, but I thought you guys deserved a little something. I didn't intentionally intend to stop where I did; however, I really wanted to get this out. I will continue to write this till the end and hopefully have it all completed and updated throughout the next few weeks, so you guys can get caught up and what not. Till next time enjoy! :)**

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><p>Chapter Nine.<p>

With everything happening with Santana and the new engagement, I knew that it would be virtually impossible to focus on work, but I had to. Today of all days, I have this huge corporate meeting, so it was imperative I was on my game; this could make or break my career. I love my job; I do, but if it came down to leaving it to be with Santana then I do it in a heartbeat. It'd never come to that though; Santana wouldn't allow it.

So as I stand before a group of big wings from a company who could potentially become one of our biggest contracts to date, it was important that I sold them on our ideas for the future of the marketing of their products.

"So as you can see I have mapped out the timeline for each commercial along with the newest ad that will graze billboards in both the city and across the Los Angeles freeway. We will have word spread of your products going globally," as I begin my pitch with my outlines and visuals predominate to their eyes, the conference room phone begins to go off. I smile briefly at them, then hit the speaker to answer the call.

"Hi I'm sorry to interrupt Ms. Fabray, but it seems your wife is here," I scrunch my eyes in confusion for a split moment, but then clear my throat and respond instantly.

"Thank you Tina. Let her know I'll be out as soon as I'm done," I end the call and quickly apologize and finish my pitch, relaying to them my grand idea to market their products in a visually striking way.

Even with the minor interruption, they seemed rather pleased with what I had come up with, shaking my hand as they left. My boss stays behind as I clean up my presentation and slowly walks over to me.

"You did well today," she compliments and I smile softly.

"Thank you. It means a lot to me that you say that," I stop turning towards her. "It appears they thought the same," I gesture to the direction where our newest clients walked.

She nods slowly. "They did," she agreed. "Though they don't know how much stronger your work is, but I do," she holds her hand up for brief moment. "Look I know you have a lot going on with your personal life and it clearly didn't sway their decisions. I'm not belittling you Quinn, if that's what this sounds like," she states, though I know she's right. My work is much stronger than this, but I can't be truly focused here when my mind drifts over to getting a call from the hospital hearing whether Santana's collapsed or she'll need an urgent surgery because they have a donor match.

"I know and you're completely right. I'm sorry my work isn't up to par," I apologize profusely.

She shakes her head with a smile. "Don't worry Quinn. You are still the best executive I have, so there isn't a need to apologize, but just be aware that I'm here whether you need to talk or even take some time off to be with your fiancee. I know her health is in your mind constantly and I do not blame you for that. I know if my husband was dealing with what she is, I wouldn't be completely focused either, but I thought you should know that if you ever need time, then you say the word, okay?"

I nod instantly. I know I am truly lucky to have a boss as understanding as mine, because I know quite a few wouldn't be as understanding as she is, so when she places her hand on my shoulder encouragingly, then walks out for me to gather my project materials together, I begin to feel at ease. I hold everything as I walk out with it all and as I do so, I see Santana in the waiting area. I nod towards her and she walks up quickly to me to grab the board out of my hand to help me carry everything to my office.

She shuts the door with her back. "You can sit it over there, thank you baby," I breath out, placing my hair behind my ear as I sit the rest of it down on my desk. I turn around to face her and she's smiling with her hands in her jacket pockets. I walk up to her and wrap my arms around her body, pecking her lips a few times.

"So what do I owe this pleasure?" I ask into her lips as she pulls her hands out from the pockets and places them around me on my lower back.

"I was at the apartment thinking for awhile," she begins and I roll my eyes playfully.

"That's never good," I pull away, turning around to walk around to sit in my chair and start my computer back up.

"Ha ha" she mock laughs. "I think we should take a vacation. Get away for a bit," she suggests, causing me to look up at her in confusion.

"What? Like where?" I ask even more curious now.

"I don't know; anywhere. I just know that we need to get away from all the bullshit that this illness has put on us," she says leaning forward on the desk. My computer starts up and I ignore the intro screen.

"I don't think you're suppose to fly in your condition and I'm pretty sure we shouldn't be out of range in case Rachel calls about a donor," I suggest because I don't think I could handle the chance of losing a donor heart because we couldn't answer our phones.

"So we drive somewhere," she pesters walking over to me and leaning down before me, turning my desk chair to her. She grabs my hands and places kisses on the tops of them. "I just want to be alone with you in a place we've never been; no worries, getting stuck in a euphoria of our own," I smile softly, leaning back in my chair with a deep sigh. That does sound wonderful and my boss did just tell me that if I needed some time off that I could take it, especially because I just landed us a big contract.

"I've never been to Niagara Falls," I comment and she smiles wide, showing off that single dimple.

She nods. "Okay; Niagara Falls it is. I can get my car out of the garage and we can head up there over the weekend and stay for a few days," I nod at the plan and she leans up and kisses me deeply, before pulling away and standing up, pulling me up with her. She wraps her arms around me tightly as if she's worried that I'll let go of her.

_I don't think I could even if I wanted to. Trust me I tried once._

**x.**

I get back to the apartment that I now officially share with Santana since we got engaged and I barely stayed at Brittany's anymore, it kind of just made sense. I was drained after the long day, but definitely was looking forward to being away with the love of my life for a few days. I told my boss of our plans and she instead gave me a week off as a oppose to three days like I suggested; she said "I earned it" then winked at me. I don't know what the gesture was for, but I certainly wasn't against the week off, that's for sure.

"San!" I yell as I put my keys down and head to the room to see her sleeping with some of her medicine bottles sitting on her nightstand. Rachel mentioned her medication was going to make her drowsy, so I sighed comfortably and just let her rest, then went to the bathroom to shower.

I came out of the bathroom and she was just waking up, yawning softly. "Hey there sleepyhead," I say softly running a towel through my wet hair as I keep another one wrapped around my body.

She looks up tiredly and sighs. "How long have I been asleep?" She groans, rubbing the tiredness out of her eyes. I sit down next to her on the bed, running my hand through her hair.

"I don't know, but you were asleep when I got home so I just let you rest," I say, leaning forward to kiss her softly which she gladly accepts.

"You want me to make us some dinner?" She asks groggily and I smile, shaking my head.

"No you sleep some more if you're still sleepy. Let me just get dressed and I'll cook for us," I say as I get back up, ready to change.

"Or you could cook naked," she suggests and I turn around to face her with narrowed eyes, noticing her small smile plastered across her lips. I quickly flash her and close my towel giggling.

"Yeah you wish," I reply and her eyes widen at my last action.

"I do and I'm so awake now," she sits up and turns her body off the bed, standing up to walk over to me and I shake my head as she gets closer, pulling me by the towel closer to her to kiss me deeply. I don't think I could ever get enough of her kissing me like this.

Before I knew what was happening, my towel was on the ground and her hands were laying on my bare backside, grabbing it firmly. I moan softly as she continues to kiss me deeper, nipping at my bottom lip. I pull away and push her back on the bed and straddle her waist, finding my lips to hers again.

Just as we were getting heated, there's a knock on the front door and I pull away. I sigh deeply and pull away entirely, sliding off her lap. "You go get the door and I'll change into some clothes," I tell her, pecking her lips again.

"Baby I'm sure it's nothing," she begs and as much as I want to have sex, I know we can't just ignore whoever is at the door, so I just kiss her again and walk into the bathroom to leave her to answer the door as I get into some clothes.

I hear her sigh deeply then the bed shift, signaling she got up and I finish dressing into some pajama pants and a tank top. When I step out and walk into the living room, I see my parents there. My eyes widen and I'm in awe that they came from Ohio to New York, who's watching the farm?

"Quinny!" My mom says, pulling me to her and I immediately blush at what Santana and I were about to do in our bedroom just before they came to the door. My parents may know I have sex, but again these are my parents, I want to seem like I have at least some type of decency.

"Hey Mom...Dad, what are you two doing here?" I ask still in complete shock. They go and sit down on the couch as Santana and I take the chair. Santana wraps her arm around my waist, running her thumb against my hip. It was actually quite calming in my time of need.

"Well Brittany told us what happened to you and Caroline, though when she told us you got together with Santana we were pretty thrilled to hear that you two finally came to your senses, just didn't realize it'd be so soon," my mom says and my dad just nods; that's my father; he's a man of very few words.

"I thought you liked Caroline?" I asked and my dad shook his head.

"We did, but we knew you weren't as happy as you made yourself out to be," my dad says and too think I was being convincing, but evidently I wasn't.

"Well things got pretty complicated with us Mr. and Mrs. Fabray," Santana interjects into the conversation with a small smile.

"You know you can call us Judy and Russel, Santana?" My father states and she nods, rolling her eyes playfully.

"Of course, force of habit," she smirks and they smile back. "So how long are you two in town?" She asks them curiously for us both since we are suppose to be going on our trip in the next few days.

"We will be here for two weeks. The farm isn't really functional at the moment since we got a huge snow storm, but we do have some help to feed the animals while were away," my mom says and I sigh, turning to Santana, biting my bottom lip in uncertainty if our trip is going to even be possible since my parents' surprise visit.

"Well that's great," Santana smiled looking over at them. "So where are you guys staying? We have room," she suggest and they shake their heads. I've known them all my life, they are the last people to impose on anyone, even if it's their own daughter.

"Oh no, we're staying at that hotel a few blocks away. We just wanted to stop by and say hello. It's getting late though, so we'll see you two later," they stand up and I hug both of them as they each give me a kiss on top of my head.

"I'll walk you guys out," Santana says and I watch her grab her jacket as they follow in suit. I find it odd that they both just up and surprised us with a visit. They never did that the entire time I've lived in New York, so this is completely out of character for them.

I sigh deeply and run my fingers through my hair, walking over to the window pane to see Santana talking to my parents. My mother gives Santana a hug and my father shakes her hand, before pulling her in a hug as well. I smile softly at how much they truly adore Santana. It brings me joy to know that they love her.

I watch them walk away and Santana retreat back inside the building, knowing it's not before long that she'll make her way back inside the apartment, so I decide to start making some dinner.

I start pulling something out of the fridge as Santana comes back inside. "It's getting chilly out there," she comments as she places her jacket back up, coming into the kitchen to wrap her arms around me, sending chills down my spine. "Keep me warm baby," she comments in a tiny voice.

I giggle. "You got it baby,"

**x.**

As we slide into bed and get comfortable, I finally bring up my parents. "Don't you find it odd that they just showed up out of the blue?" I ask curiously. Santana really didn't say much during their arrival and hasn't mentioned anything about it since they left.

"They're your parents Q, do you find it odd?" Santana says as she lays her head down on her pillow, ready to fall asleep, but she continues to stare at me as I sit up against the headboard.

"Well yeah kind of," I admit, turning my head to her. "I mean the entire time I've lived here, nothing, but suddenly when I..."

"Leave your ex-fiancee because you're head over heels in love with your friend and then end up with said friend and the two of you become newly engaged after about two months, they suddenly want to show up?" Santana finishes and I glare at her because I wasn't intending on going into that grave detail, but yes that's exactly what I was trying to say.

"You just made me sound like a slut and I don't appreciate that," I say, though I know she doesn't really think that of me.

"Babe, they wanted to come see us, so just let them enjoy their time away from Ohio and make them feel wanted," Santana says softly, rubbing her fingers against my arm.

"Of course they're wanted," I say softly, finally fixing my pillow to lay my head down at her level.

"Then just be happy they came at all, okay?" She whispers, leaving a kiss on the tip of my nose. I nod finally, letting it go. Honestly with everything that occurred throughout my life thus far, I'm lucky to have the parents I have. They could have easily kicked me out for the things I've done, but they stood by me and supported me through every mistake I've made and I love them hopelessly for that.

"Wait does this mean our trip is cancelled?" I ask her as she closes her eyes. She opens one of them and stares at me. I was actually looking forward to the trip. She turns behind her and clicks the lamp off next to her and sighs.

"Our trip is still definitely on. Don't worry," she says tiredly and kiss me deeply on the lips. "Get some sleep baby. I love you,"

"I love you too, sweet dreams," I say into the darkness as I fall asleep to her breathing.

**x.**

We packed everything in Santana's sedan for our trip. I let my parents be aware that we were taking a trip to Niagara Falls and that we'd be back in a week. They seemed strangely okay with the trip, but I'm assuming it had to do with the fact that they sprung a surprise on us, so they didn't feel like it was necessary for us to spend every waking moment with them, which I was thankful for.

Santana made sure to call her family and tell them not to bother us while we were away and that we'd let them know of any changes on her health. Santana mentioned her heart condition to her family a few weeks ago and honestly, it was the hardest things to watch her confess to them. She has a huge family, so when they discovered she was slowly dying from a disease that requires her to do nothing but wait for some type of miracle, it was devastating, especially when I watch Maribel break down.

All Santana could do was hold her in her arms and let her cry against her. They were all praying for a donor to be found for her and hoped that when did, she'll have a speedy recovery, which knowing her will probably be true.

We managed to get on the road fairly early, in order to beat the New York traffic. Upon doing so, I was a little nervous to be away. I've never taken a vacation like this before; a romantic getaway if you will. With Caroline and I, real life got in the way of things and she was a DA, so she was practically always on call. We were known as a power couple and that was something I really didn't mind at the time, but at the same time I wanted to be known as more than that.

With Santana, life has always been a carefree light of adventure. We never took anything too seriously till recently, but even now we still try to shed light on a terrible situation; nevertheless, we just worked. I like having my career and I like that she has hers; they're both severely different, but we were good at them, plus we actually enjoyed them. Since Santana's been back from her retreat though, she hasn't been working at the university, but she's been working from home. She does the online classes for the university and I actually find myself happier with her doing that; as does she. She actually says it gives her a valid excuse to walk around with no pants on.

As we continue upstate, with music softly playing in the background, I graze my thumb against the skin of her hand on the center console. "I'm so happy we're doing this," I comment softly and Santana smiles.

"Yeah me too," she replies. "I actually did something right," she adds and I look over at her intently.

"You do a lot of things right," I compliment and she chuckles softly, looking over briefly in my direction.

"You're a good liar babe," she's being modest. She doesn't give herself enough credit because there is a lot of things she's done right to me. She has definitely done more than I have that could be considered right, but that's just my opinion.

"I just can't wait to get there," I gush as I stare out at the open road, enjoying even just the simple ride itself.

"You'll love the hotel that I booked too," she comments and I look over, smiling because I'm just unable to contain my excitement.

We continue the drive further and after about six and a half hours, we finally arrive. I didn't think it was that long, but apparently according to the GPS it was pretty far and I couldn't believe it, but regardless of that; we're here and I couldn't be more excited.

When we got to the hotel, the valet took the car and Santana grabbed the bags, placing them on the trolley while taking my hand in hers. We had surprisingly quite a bit of bags, which I wasn't entirely sure why; in fact I didn't even pack any of it. Santana insisted on packing everything because I was out physically working whereas her job was from home, stating she had more time than me. I, of course I said I could pack my own bag, but she just was too stubborn.

When we made it to our room, I took it all in. We had a single king size bed and when I walked to the balcony it looked over the falls and I swear I fell in love with this place almost instantly. "Wow," I whisper as I pop it open to step outside. There were people by the bridge, taking front row seats to the beauty, but I definitely enjoyed my view from where I stood.

Santana came out beside me and wrapped her arms around me from behind. She placed a kiss upon my neck. "You did good beautiful," I complimented and grabbed her arms, rubbing them gently.

"Thanks, it wasn't too hard, mostly because wedding season is over," she stated and I crooked my mouth in thought. It would be pretty beautiful to get married with this as a backdrop.

"I envy the people who marry here," I whisper and Santana sighs softly.

"So why don't we?" She says and I turn around in her arms to look at her to see if she was joking, but she most definitely wasn't. "They have a venue downstairs with huge wall windows, which overlook the falls perfectly. Your parents are already in the state," she adds; oh my God, she really is serious.

I didn't know what to say though, so she just kept pleading her case. "Baby I love you so much and I've waited two years to make you my wife. I don't want to waste another minute not being married to you," she says, keeping eye contact with me and I swear my heart swelled at this.

"What about my sister? And dresses?" I ask because we can't just up and marry each other when we have so many things to plan.

"We can get your sister here by the morning and there is a bridal store in town," she turns guilty as she continues to speak. "I also may have booked the venue and the caterer awhile ago because I thought maybe you'd say yes and we could get married at this beautiful location," she adds and I widen my eyes and push her softly.

"Santana! I thought we were going to plan it together," I argue, but she sighs, pulling me closer.

"Look I just wanted to give you a special day and I honestly don't know if a donor is going to come through before it's too late. I just don't want to leave this earth knowing I didn't marry you," when she put it that way, it hurt that she felt like she didn't think she'll survive in time for a donor, but sometimes I worry the same thing. I don't want to waste another minute not being her wife either, so why the hell not? We're here in beautiful Niagara Falls and my family as well as hers is within distance, so why fuck shouldn't we just go for it?

"You're right baby," I say finally. "Let's do it," I smile, kissing her deeply on the lips as she returns it.

"I can't wait for you to become Mrs. Santana Lopez," she gushes and to be honest, I have wanted to become that since I met her on the train station two years ago.


End file.
